We Were Lovers In a Past Life
by JCFanatic101
Summary: Coruscant has fallen and 500,000 years later, lives a young man named Owen Kensington. Fate lets him meet a woman named Serena, who bares strong resemblance to the mysterious woman in his dreams. While his friend, Alan Steedman, discovers a woman whom he feels is his destiny to be with. Together, they learn that not only are they reincarnated, but the reason why they came back.
1. The First Meeting: Ch1

Mister Kensington paced down the street. It was sunny early day and all was well. He got his usual coffee, read the days news paper and walked towards work. He had been working for more than eleven years in the world, his life had been filled with many adventures and experiences, but for the past five years in particular, it had been very slow, things were winding down and his life had become dull. Today though, would be different; for fate had a special plan for him,

As he turned his next corner, he failed to notice the woman on the other side, his foot got caught in her legs and they fell over one another.

But Owen was a gentleman, and this mistake was more than just embarrassing. "My dear! I am very sorry, I wasn't looking." Owen pleaded. He picked up her fallen parcels. "Are you hurt?" He asked.

"No, no it's okay, I'm quite alright." She fluttered. She graciously took his hand and came to her feet.

"You're not hurt at all?"

She looked down at the hem of her dress in worry, "Well I'm not," She stated. But her now coffee stained dress, was.

He offered her his handkerchief. "I am very sorry."

She looked at the cloth and let out a small laugh. "I didn't know people still had these."

Fortunatly for Owen, her chuckle let up the tension in the air, causing him to smile slightly. "What can I say? I'm old fashioned." He nervously looked down at her badly stained dress. "If you like, I can have it dry-cleaned."

She pulled back her fallen bangs so her face was no longer hidden. "Thank you for offering. That would be very nice Mr.…" She paused and waited awkwardly for him to properly finish the sentence with his name.

But Owen did not reply, instead his jaw lowered and he stared with widened eyes at the lady.

She cocked her head curiously to regain his attention.

Owen came to and stuttered awkwardly, "Oh, I'm Owen…Owen Kensington." He nervously looked down and noticed her packages in his hands. "Here" He handed over her belongings.

She thanked him as she took back her parcels. She stretched out her hand to greet him. "I'm Serena."

Owen quickly grabbed her hand to shake it. "Please to meet you Serena."

"Again, thank you." She continued. "I would gladly take you up on the offer."

Owen reassured her. "I'm more than willing; it's the least I can do."

She nodded "Do you live around here then?"

"Yes, I live in an apartment just up the way." Owen knew he shouldn't keep her and started jotting his address down on some paper. "Here, this is my address, you can send me your dress when you're ready."

"Thanks I'll send it tomorrow." She replied as she stuffed the paper carefully into her bag.

Owen looked at her once more. "Well I can't just leave you here, do have means to another outfit?"

"Don't worry about me." She waved off calmly, "I have a new one right here." and pointed to one of her boxes. "To think, the only reason why I'm late was because I was picking this up from the store."

He chuckled. "Well, in that case I won't keep you."

"Yes, I need to go, Goodbye Owen"

"Goodbye Serena. I hope to see you again." Owen waved to her as she walked away.

The two parted and continued on their separate ways. But for Owen his mind was no longer focused.

"Your face….It's your face. Even your voice is the same. Does she know? Is she aware of me?" Owen thought to himself; it was next to impossible for him to be focused as he walked through the crowded streets. His usually awareness was gone as he stumbled his way to work.

"Why did I meet you now? Why today, why like this? Who are you?"

Owen made it to his work building and headed for his office, he failed to wave to any of his fellow Co-workers that greeted him, for he wasn't paying any attention, his mind was too focused.

Once he sat down, he went straight to work, or maybe not.

"She'll send me her dress to get dry-cleaned. I'll send her some flowers as an apology, wait…no I'll do it in person instead, that way, I'll know I'll see her. Wait…flowers are too romantic..."

Owens mood suddenly changed as he slouched down in his chair at that last thought. "Easy there Owen…no one said anything about romance. You met her for a reason, now you're going to figure out why." but soon Owen let out a sigh of weakness as he looked all around his dull room. Finally he repositioned himself in the chair by sitting up straight. He decided to take this slowly and focus on one thing, his next meeting with Serena. By doing so Owen spent very little time working and more time daydreaming. Of his many years working at his company, never has he shown such unprofessionalism as this, having non-work related thoughts, which was something he was warned against in a memo from last month; how trivial, Owen thought.

"Meeting time!"

The voice alerted Owen out of his fantasy. He looked over at his clock; it read two 'o three. "How did it get so late?" Owen wondered aloud.

"What do you mean late?!" His co-worker asked. "I've never seen you lose track of time."

He hoped no one else noticed that he hadn't worked at all; at least it was the last day of the week so it didn't matter to anyone. He grabbed some files off his desk for the meeting, though it's tough to say anything important would come of it.

The two left his cubicle and headed for the meeting room.

"So do you think the new guy will be as kind as our last boss?" His co-worker joked.

"Oh, of course, he'll give us holidays on days that are the most inconvenient and leave us paid-for lunches out of our own salaries."

"I was just hoping he'd give me more meaningless projects so I look like I'm busy all the time."

"You never look busy."

"I don't?" He asked.

"Walter everybody knows you sleep in your cubicle while using those projects as a pillow."

Walter retaliated smugly. "You know after seeing how you looked back there, maybe I can give you some tips."

Owen shook his head. "No thanks. Besides I wasn't sleeping."

Walter looked at him funny, and then got a devious look on his face. "Oh I get it."

"I was, thinking." Owen sharply corrected.

Walter nodded again. "Oh, okay then."

When Owen thought he was finally done teasing him, Walter nudged his head over to his side. "Leela from marketing?"

Owen turned his head in surprise. "Knock it off Walter, or I'll give the new boss your name!"

He only shook his hands in defeat and begged. "Okay, okay! You don't need to do that. Boy, you've been acting different today, when you came in this morning you looked so distracted I thought you were hammered; you okay?"

Owen was reluctant to give out any explanation, for good reasons too. "I was just thinking about things."

He looked at him then reasoned out a story in his own mind. "You know Eddie exhibited the same signs too before he went."

Owen contemplated the name before rolling his eyes and glaring at Walter. "Eddie Binko? You mean the guy that tried to commit suicide here six years ago?"

"Well I remember him well, back in the day when I actually cared about this job. He was a lot like you, filled with confidence wanted to make a difference in the world. Then one day he started to get depressed about his job and boom!"

Owen ignored the callous reference and sparked interest. "How did he start getting depressed?"

"He had too much ambition for this place. Guess one day he realized how futile it all was and decided to jump."

"And you say I'm just like him?" He wondered.

He shrugged his shoulders. "No offence, Owen, but you do act like you can make a difference here, your job means nothing you know that right?"

Offended, Owen tried to retaliate with a word of disagreement but instead, hesitated. Thinking it over in his mind, Walter was right and it was stupid to argue. "How did you stop caring?"

"After he almost killed himself because of this job I realized that no career is worth death. So I stayed knowing that I don't need to make a difference. I get money, I get to sleep. That's all that matters."

"Eddie never died though, right?" He continued.

"Nah, the net caught him but he was fired due to the embarrassment he caused the company. Got off easy with the richest severance package, due to his mental health and all. Cost him his dignity though, no company wanted him after that."

Owen held his head low in thought.

Walter took note of his depressed look. Feeling guilty he tried to cheer him up. "Look Owen, just don't make use of that window any time soon."

He looked up and smiled slightly. "I won't."

Owen reached down to the door handle, they had arrived at their destination and he opened the door.

Inside the room was an elongated table and sitting at the end of it, was a very, large man. "Hello Mr. Kensington, hello Mr. Bore. Nice to see you finally arrived. Now we just have to wait for Mr. Stone."

Owen took a seat while his friend sat next to him.

Walter leaned over and whispered to Owen. "This Mr. Stone is the one I was telling you about."

"With a name like Mr. Stone, he doesn't sound very promising."

The door then jolted open. In walked in a tall, stoic and stately figure. His hair was bleached blonde and his skin just as light. With his predominate cheekbones and commanding glare it made him appear quite cold to the other members in the room. "Sorry I'm late. "He complained. "But I had some personal business to attend to."

Owens supervisor humbly asked what happened and Mr. Stone explained.

"I found out some idiot spilt coffee on my girlfriend this morning!" He boasted as he sat down. "She was forced to wear the dress that I bought for her, for the art show next month" He stated, pointing out to the supervisor that this was the art show he talked about with him earlier. His boisterous speech continued. "I didn't want anyone to see her wearing it until then. So when I found out about this, I had to drive all the way to her house, pick up a new dress, then drive all the way to her workplace, give her the new one, then take the coffee stained one and drop it off to get cleaned!"

Owens froze, realizing what had happened.

The large man at the desk spoke again. "Your girlfriend must have been very upset. I'm sorry that happened."

"It's okay now." Mr. Stone explained. "But can you believe it though? That idiot who spilt coffee on her, six-hundred dollar dress, offered to have it dry-cleaned!"

The fat supervisor gasped like he understood what Mr. Stone was talking about. "Really?!"

"You know what would have happened right?"

The supervisor nodded densely.

"That's right. She would have sent him the dress and he would have made right off with it!"

Owen had enough of the slander and intervened. "You don't know that for certain. Maybe he was just being kind."

No one replied to Owen, instead they stared at his social blunder. There was a long awkward pause in the room until Mr. Stone glared at him. "And you are?"

He answered decently. "My name is Owen Kensington. I'm going to be working under you."

Stone gave a suspicious look as he sighed. "Well Owen your optimism is admired but not that relevant, I want my employees to have discretion, I don't want them to give the obviously guilty the benefit of the doubt; you'll be robbed blind." He lectured.

The open speech was Owens small embarrassment at the office, one that he hoped would be forgotten soon but it was not likely.

He dragged himself home with his coat slung around his shoulders, somehow the day ended a lot differently than he had hoped. But the smell of his old apartment building cheered him up as he tapped up the steps. The old door opened, the wood creaked underneath his feet and he was instantly greeted by his sweet girlfriend.

The woman at the counter noticed him, "Hey honey!" she pecked the side of Owens cheek with a load of endearment. She took one look at him and said. "Hard day at work?'

He shrugged. "I got a new boss, I'll leave the rest for you to interpret."

She flirted innocently with him. "Ouch, well at least you have a place to come home to. Why don't you have a hot bath? I'll bring up some cocoa."

Owen could tell what her motives were and moved out of the way. "Sounds great Sally, but I can't expect you to carry those hot drinks all the way upstairs. I'll come down to the break room after my bath, we can drink it by the furnace."

Owen then jolted up the stairs.

She watched him irritably, and went back to work.

Owen made his bath quick so he wouldn't keep Sally waiting. He dried off with his towel and started to comb and clean his hair and moustache, he considered his drinking cocoa with Sally as a date. He placed on a regular shirt and pants and jogged down the stairs to where she was. When he opened the door to the break room it was dimly lit, scented candles were burning and Sally was wearing a formal sweater. It appeared she also considered this as a date.

"You look nice." Owen noted. "So is the hot chocolate were drinking imported?"

"No, but it is special." She offered rather indifferently.

Owen took a small sip of the hot drink. It tasted like normal cocoa. "Why is it special?" He asked.

"You tell me."

What's wrong?"

Sally was beginning to get slightly irritated as she glared at him.

Finally he got the message. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He chuckled.

"Because you wouldn't let me bring up the hot chocolate to you."

Owen tried to comprehend that logic. "I don't think that's worth getting upset about."

She rested her cheek in her hand. "Owen, I wanted to just drink this casually, I thought it would be more comfortable for you and me to just, drink it in your room. But by having it down here it feels so, formal."

Owen looked around the room, taking note of the evidence stating otherwise. "If you didn't want this to be formal then why all the candles?"

She pulled her tight sweater down a bit and answered. "I was trying to be over the top to prove a point. You just weren't getting the message."

Owen looked at her for a moment, feeling rather confused. "Sally, why does it matter to you so much that we drink this in my room?"

"Because I want you and me to be like a normal couple. I thought you and I could just relax, just talk. Why can we only be together on formal dates?"

Owen wasn't sure how to reply, he never knew a lady would complain about too many nice dates. "Well Sally." He continued. "I thought you liked our dates."

"I do! But we do, after all, live in the same building; can't we use that to our advantage and have more casual time together?"

He started to shift around in his chair. "I'm all for more casual time Sally. But as for my room…"

Sally waited patiently for Owen to finish his sentence.

"I guess I'm just old fashioned. I wouldn't want anything to happen."

Sally grimaced. "You are so! Ugh, you are old-fashioned! Who said anything would happen. There is nothing wrong with me being in your room." She complained first then made a remark. "Sometimes I think you just don't love me, and your making excuses to prevent our relationship from going any further."

Owen put his cup down.

Sally sat back, she prepared herself for an angry response.

"Maybe your right, maybe I am afraid." He murmured.

She was surprised to hear it. "You mean you agree?"

Owen lowered his head and nodded in realization. "Sally I don't think I have been fair to you, we have been dating for over two years. You're like my best friend and I have always been satisfied with just dating you, but you want more." He explained with an open heart.

"Well." Sally smiled nervously. "I guess we have been stuck in a rut. Why have you been scared to go further?" She asked curiously.

Owen gave a blank stare trying to find the answer. "I guess I have just been frightened to leave this comfort zone." He replied. "Tell you what; not tomorrow, but the night after, we'll go out for a big fancy dinner, and then we'll come back to my place and…" Owen paused. "Have tea?"

Sally slumped her body against the back of her chair. "It's a start."

Owen started to smile too. "Great I'll make the Jorganoo fruit tea that you like."

Sally giggled. "Okay then, do you want to do anything now or do you just want to call it a night?"

Owen thought for a moment. "How about a nice long kiss goodnight before I go back up?" Owen said as he moved his way slowly over to her.

Sally agreed as she put his arms around him. "You do love me right?"

Owen replied with a definite yes and pressed his lips on hers.

"I love you too Owen." Sally whispered calmly as she rested her arms around him. She continued to kiss him, but she slyly pulled him downward until she finally got him to the floor with him on top. She began making settle movements to try and get Owen more comfortable, like placing her hand on his shirt button. During the long moment she started to undo him and placed her palm inside his slightly open shirt.

But it was only for a minute until Owen moved back suddenly with his emotions in a panic. He looked down at her. "I'm sorry Sally, I'm just not ready yet."

Sally got up on her hip and looked at him with remorse. "It's okay, I won't force you." But she said it sadly. She didn't want what they were doing to end.

Owen looked back at her, he was panting heavily and his hair flopped over his brow. "I guess I let you down then." He thought in distress.

She cupped his head in her hands and looked deeply into his eyes. "It's okay, all good relationships take time." She pulled him in for a hug. "It's not like you don't love me."

Owen smiled. "I do my dear, I know I do." He wheezed.

Sally hugged harder. "You're the sweetest man I've ever met, I almost feel guilty for seducing you like that, I should be sorry."

Owen chuckled. "It's okay, I was actually enjoying it."

She wiped her red hair back and looked at him intensely. "Then why did you stop?"

His tired eyes looked at her. "I guess I'm just worried of what might have happened."

Sally started to rub her face against his neck. "That's the most beautiful part, but I'll wait until you're ready." She murmured.

Owen cuddled her closer. "No my dear, I just practice abstinence."

She suddenly pulled away from the hug and looked at him with great surprise. "Wait, what?"

"What's wrong?"

Sally mulled it over in her head and looked at him with a perplexed look. "You practice abstinence? Owen, are you a, a..., virgin?"

Owen was a little embarrassed. "Of course, I thought you knew this."

Sally didn't speak. She took a moment to comprehend this, and changed her attitude entirely. "You know," She continued as she got up. "This would explain a lot. I really wish you told me before, I had no idea you practiced this type of religion I would have never tempted you like that, I am really sorry."

Owen got up and explained. "Religion? No Sally I just do it because I choose too, not because of some religious law. I just think it's safer for marriage."

Sally was confused yet again. "You mean, you think in doing it, without being married is bad?"

"Well…" He paused but then continued in a firmer voice. "Yes I do."

"Owen I really don't think, I mean I, well come on Owen." She stated with a chortle. "Don't you think that idea is little out-dated?"

Owen was getting more offended. "So you think its fine if it's a part of my religion but not if I choose so out of my own free will?"

"Well you're not obligated to it, Owen, It's completely fine if you do it. No one's going to look at your poorly."

"Except me," He argued. "I would be ashamed of myself if I did."

She was hurt. "So if I did it before, does that make me a bad person?"

"No, that's not the issue here Sally."

"It is the issue!" She argued back. "Why it so bad with having sex!"

Owen replied with a higher voice. "Sally, I don't treat it lightly! Why can't you accept that? You were just fine with giving me time before, how is it different now?"

Sally shook her head and cried. "Because you don't have to do this!"

The air went silent, and Owen readjusted his stance to something gentler and spoke in a tone much quieter than before. "I know Sally, I know."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't have to do this, I choose too. I just practice self control; it's how I was raised."

She looked at him again; she started to understand what he meant. "So it is part of your beliefs?" She stated.

He smiled back. "In a sense, I don't want you to be offended by it Sally, It's not an attack on you, It's just how I live."

Se let up the tenison by smiling again, it was small but it was a start. "I should have known; it makes sense knowing you."

"So are you okay with this?" He asked, seeking a conformation.

She nodded. "I won't argue anymore, but I don't really understand it."

Owen pulled her in for their third hug that night and whispered calmly. "Thank you my dear."

Sally cuddled her face in his chest. "So I'm guessing this is why you panicked when we kissed earlier, huh?"

"I guess so."

"I must be good kisser than if I intimidated you that much." She teased.

Owen blushed, a little lost for words.

She pulled her head back to look up. "What a night, huh?"

"Well at least it didn't end with us fighting." Owen proceed to kiss her forehead.

"Yeah." She stated sweetly. "I have a bit of a headache actually, all these emotions in just a short time."

owen pulled away from the hug. :Maybe we should give it a rest for today."

She agreed. "I think you're right, although none of us drank the cocoa."

He looked at the now cold, brown, drinks lying on the table. "Well I had some, it was good."

"It was instant."

"Well it was still good." He said as he kissed her forehead. "Goodnight for now Sally." Owen turned around and headed for the door out,

Before he left she called out, "Owen?"

"Yes?"

She bit the bottom of her lip nervously. "Are you still up for that romantic date?"

His glazed eyes squinted in happiness. "Of course I am."

The door was opened and Owen walked back to his room.

"That was quite a night." Owen thought regretfully, 'I never expected this to happen." He made it to his room and stepped inside, it was dark till he turned on the lights. The boards creaked under his feet, only the rugs muffled the sound. Owen headed straight for the fridge for some much needed food. He pulled out a cold container as he contemplated more on his relationship. "Sally certainly seems dead set on making our relationship more serious. I don't blame her. Perhaps it's time to, after all, I wouldn't have been in this relationship for so long unless I could see that she was right for me." Owen froze as he pulled his food out of the heater.

_"I guess maybe I should start considering the thought of marrying her."_

He sat down with his food in front of him. He looked at it for a while until he decided to eat. "I do love her, marriage makes sense. I just don't know if she wants it. I mean after tonight, she really surprised me there." he paused. "Oh! Stop this; she was just raised differently that's all. She doesn't understand where I coming from on this. So she doesn't agree on abstinence, at least she's willing to give me grace." He grew more depressed as he thought of the impending future. "I guess we'll be talking about this again, soon." Owen finished off the leftovers as he mulled those thoughts over in his mind. He felt like he was coming down with a head ache himself. "I guess I should finish up on my papers and get some sleep."

He later spent a great deal of time bumming around on his computer instead of working; he wasn't in the mind set to think clearly.

He soon discovered that his mind was to abuzz to rest. Owen decided to ease the stress of sleeping by taking his regular dose of sleeping pills, followed by shutting the drapes, turning off the lights, then finally resting in his pajamas. The moon had risen high when he got into bed. The soft blue light was serene on his eyes as he started to feel the first wave of sleep rush over him. The night was tranquil and the combination of the cool breeze inside his warm room made It ideal sleeping conditions, for a significant dream.

The drapes blew in the soft breeze.

"Owen?" She summoned again, "Owen?"

He stood like a child in the dark blue atmosphere. Behind him was darkness but before him was a light that shone through his endless world. He walked towards it, in fast paced steps.

"I am here!" He yelled out. He looked up at the figure that stood on top of the mystical cloud. The dreamy blue mist surrounded him like always before. He stared at here meekly as he waited patiently for her to reply.

"Owen." She said for the third time, "It is time. Come to me!"

Owen reached out his arm trying to grab the empty space between him and his caller. The words rested in his heart. "I will." He cried out in sheer determination. "I will!" He continued again and again! "I will come to you!"

"I know you will Obi…."

Owen found himself back in his apartment. The lighting was different now, it was the early blue light before dawn. He looked at the table stand, his clock read six. He turned his dazed head back to the ceiling. He could try sleeping and get another hour in but his mind was too ablaze now.

"It's time." He whispered.

Getting up, he strode to the washroom. Owen failed to turn on any lights; there was enough in the room already to see. He ran the water in his tub. He removed his clothes delicately as he sat down in the warm water. Everything around him was a blue hue thanks to the lighting, almost like his dream. He could see the steam rise of his skin as he sat deeper in the tub until he was completely reclined. He needed to relax, meditate; so much just occurred. His thoughts were now affixed to seeing Serena again. "Come to me, Come to me…" he whispered slowly. "It's always been 'Find Me.' Serena, whoever you are, you have something to do with this but what?" Owen laid back as he thought about his long past. Ever since that day when he was nineteen he has been having these dreams. Of this beautiful angel, telling him to find at first thought, that this angel was his destined lover, but after many years of searching and to no avail, Owen gave up on the idea. That perhaps, there was another purpose as to why this woman was appearing to him.

Some time went by as he laid their in the tub in a soft, mellow daze.

"I need to find her again, but how?" He thought about how his chance was ruined just yesterday thanks to Stone. Suddenly he rose with an idea. "Maybe Alan can help me!"

It was a few hours until the door to his room opened up, a well-dressed man walked out with an optimistic smile. He trotted down the steps quietly as to not alert Sally, and then very causally, made to the door.

"Owen?" She hummed from across the room.

He turned around calmly and could tell she was hiding in the next room spying on him or she was only cleaning out the back room of its mildew which would explain the sponge and cleanser.

"Where are you going?"

Owen smiled his good morning to her and vaguely gave his answer. "I'm going out for the day."

Sally took another look at him"To where?"

"To see my friend."

Sally gave him an inquisitive look, as she thought for a moment. "Is this the friend you see every weekend?" She asked.

Owen looked at his shoes and then back to her. "Yes, why?"

"Every weekend you're not here. It's been this way for the past year. Kinda makes me wonder why you don't tell me who this friend is."

Owen smiled and chuckled nervously. "Sally, he is just a very close friend of mine. I like to see him when I can and weekends are generally the only time I'm free."

She shrugged her shoulders and let go of her suspicion. "Alright." She gave in. "Get out of her and go see him."

Owen would have greatly answered her wish but he took a close glance at her face, It was the look of defeat. "Sally?" He said again. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing the matter." She argued as she knotted the rag in her hands.

Owen took a few steps toward her. "Is something the matter?"

Sally gave up and turned her head back to him, but she was surprised to see Owen standing right in front of her; she throw her arms around him because he was so close.

'Now what's the matter?"

She took a shot of his eyes and gave him the truth. "It's silly really, it's just that. Every week you're at work and then the weekend comes along and you're at your friends. I just feel like, If we're going to make this new phase in our relationship work, we should be spending more time together." She confessed.

Owen took a moment to think. He had a hint of wryer in his smile. "Well are you busy now?"

She took one look at him and understood. Sally tossed her rag aside. "Who needs to clean mildew anyway? It's only going to come back."

"That's right." Owen nodded. He took his arm and placed it around her. "So where do you want to go?"

Sally's grin was large. "Well, If you would let me change quickly first." She squirmed from under his grip and place his arm back down. "You and I can head over to the new centennial history exhibit, here it's a hit." She then ran up to her room.

Owen watched her, happily but with a hint of remorse, pulled out the device hooked by his pocket. He typed a few bits in it and once done, held it to his ear. A vague ringing could be heard.

"Yes, Al? Hey pal how are ya? Really? You were? Well that's good because I'm calling for the same reason. Yes, Sally and I are headed out for the morning. Uh huh. Well um we've been..."

Owen took a quick glance to make sure no one was around to hear, he toned his voice down.

"She wants to take it a step further. So were just starting to do that. What? Well yes actually she did. But uh, I figured quality time would be a better step."

He laughed quickly at the last words then continued.

"Look Alan, There's um, there's lot I want to talk about with you right now so can we meet up later. Sally? Uh, yes and no. It's more than that. No jobs fine. But yesterday I met..."

Owen fumbled his words to get it right.

"I met her. The one from my dreams. Yes, yes she does exist! I know I can hardly believe it myself. But I know she's the one. Look I'll give you details when I come over alright but, no, no don't cancel, I'm going to be spending time with Sally anyway. Sorry heh, maybe I should have waited, since you sound so excited. Yes I will don't worry. Sometime after lunch? Yeah I can do that, I might be talking with you for a long time anyway so, hmm? No I don't think, well maybe but I better not. Sally wouldn't like it."

He chuckled, but his conversation went softer and more solemn.

"Yeah she would get suspicious and I don't want to upset her, especially not right now. Well yeah, yes. Yes, I would agree. Things have been different lately. I guess taking a step forward is what we need most right now. Hmm, uhh no I'm fine with it. I mean we have been dating for about three years now. I think the 'next step' just sounds worse than it actually is. Yeah I guess so. Thanks Al. What's that? Well thanks that sounds nice actually, you don't have to I mean, alright if you insist. Sounds good, I'll be sure to come when I can. Of course."

Owen snickered under his breath, at the joke just shared over the phone.

"I love you too." He teased. "Bye."

He chuckled as he set to shut off the device. But when Owen turned around to call for Sally he was greeted with a more than suspicious all the way to deadly glare. "Sally!" He jerked back. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." She scowled. "Who was that?"

"My friend, the one I was going to see. I wanted to let him know that I'd be late."

Sally folded her arms over her clean shirt and just cocked a disappointed brow at him. "Do you always end your conversations with 'I love you too?' Or just the ones with her?"

Owen blushed greatly. "Now it's not a her!" He did not waver and continued more boldly. "Its a he, and that last statement was just, playful banter."

Sally gave him a cold stare. "Playful banter?"

Owen tried his best to hide his frustration. "Were both guys Sally, my conversations with him have been continually more _lax_." He quivered with realization, at how true that last statement was.

"So that nice thing he's going to do is?"

Owen gave off his iconic smile. "So you do believe me?"

She continued to glare at him. "If what you're saying is true, how come you've never told me about him?"

"He's a private person, keeps to himself. I don't tell you about him because he wants it that way. It's nothing against you dear. Now, can we give up this silly idea that I'm having an affair?"

Sally looked down. "Alright, I guess it does seem silly. Just that conversation sounded so, well, raunchy. I hope what you're telling me is true because if it's not…"

Owen once again he put his arm around her shoulders. "It's true. I am _not _the type to cheat on you, you don't deserve that." He whispered in her ear before he kissed it.

She murmured. "You don't seem like the type anyhow."

"Good!" He stated. "I'm glad to get that over. Now where is it you said you wanted to go?"

Sally still was busy thinking but answered. "Centennial history exhibit. It's by the edge of the twenty-first shot."

"I heard its hit." Owen noted as he led her out the door with his arms still around her. "Where going to have a great day today Sally."

"I hope so Owen." Sally sighed. "I hope so."

The Museum was more than extraordinary with its binary walls. The digital projections, high class crowd and the clean glass cases were of spectacular view. Though to be here for a long while, with all its blue atmosphere, would only result in a head ache.

"Look at this." Sally pointed out. She jogged gently up the steps to the display resting up top. "Ancient material used for clothes. Underwear actually."

Owen took a gander as he stood tall in his position next to it. "They had underwear back then?"

"Of course. What else would they wear?"

He took another look at the display rather acutely. "How embarrassing..."

"Let's keep looking around for less personal items then." She offered.

Owen kept looking as he continued by her side. "So how old are some the artifacts here?"

"Most is from more recent history, like within the past ten, to fifty thousand years."

Owens brow, raised. "Fifty thousand years is recent?"

"Well considering some of the stuff here is almost half a million years old, I would say, yes it is!"

Owen almost let out a whistle of amazement but hesitated because this was a silence preferred area.

"Historians are constantly finding evidence that intelligent beings roamed this galaxy for almost, a million years! But It's been changing so much that it's hard to keep record. For example; take this planet,"

Owen paid careful attention to the projector Sally pointed to.

Sally clicked the button to start the narrative. A holo began to play.

"Curosaca, though for years has been the main center of the galaxy, wasn't always like this. Many do not know that it was once a poverty stricken, waste land, filled with debris. Back then, people here were most often exiles, undesirables, or criminals. A 'Gengo-podo' as some would call it, this land was the galaxy's land fill instead of a glorious capital. But its continual shipment of used metal debris shows that at one point, the planet had to have once housed a large city. Most of its foundation has been ripped out during the ravages of time, but up till recently, archaeologist's have found entrance into tunnels buried beneath the surface; this were once the city's sewer system. Through there, they have discovered that the ancient city was not a city at all, but the entire planet itself! Covered from pole to pole in man made structures, the globe was an entire metropolis. Divided into five thousand separate levels, then divided into separate blocks on those levels, were homes and business's would resided. The sea was drained into underground systems to make room for over-populace, and melted ice caps to feed the nation through a vast network of whole process would have taken almost one hundred thousand years to complete. Such a structure has made this world rich with historical value as many are coming to understand the magnitude of this planets former way of life. But what caused it to fall? Many have pondered that its plunge was not a result of its failure, but of its success. With each passing year, its rich way of life caused the ancient people to be too prosperous, it's population exceeding that of a trillion!"

The narrative broke from the stock footage to a shot of a historian from a previous interview, as well as others.

"Any city, no matter how big will always, always be susceptible to economic collapse. An epic plague might have been what started it. We have seen signs of such an event happening, but whether it caused it or resulted from it, is beyond us."

The scene changed to a shot of a much younger man. "You can only go down once you've reached the top."

The scene changed once more, "Curosaca was a massive planet that got too big for its size. So the politicians left and let its people die. But they didn't." He added. "They survived, and they turned this planet into a system again. They looked around and said 'hey we have all the metal why don't we sell it.' With that done, the planet and all that historical evidence was being chipped away slowly so that they may live. The drained oceans started filling up again; people began growing plants on their roof tops for food. Skyscrapers were knocked down and turned into economic dwellings. The plant was evolving."

The documentary turned back to the female narrative. "Over the next four thousand years the planet would under-go a massive over-haul. Much of its history was lost during the years of salvaging but one place remained almost entirely untouched; the sewers. Inside, records of the planets former state are being slowly translated. Much is still needed to be learned but we hope, with contributions from you, that more knowledge shall be obtained for future generation's. Thank you."

Finally the video was done playing.

"They always end it with a plea for donations don't they?" Sally spoke out with cynicism.

Owen pulled out his wallet as he walked towards the donation column.

Sally was mystified by his actions, "Owen?!"

"What?" He shrugged, "I thought that was very fascinating, who doesn't want future generations to know about this planets history? Besides, I'm curious myself."

She folded her arms. "You have no way of knowing if that money is going to go to that particular fund."

"Oh well, what difference does it make?" He took the money and dropped it down the chute.

The chute was a long column, made out of glass, that reached all the way down to the basement. On any floor you may insert money into a slot and patrons walking by could watch the money fall down behind the glass. It lead to a special safe, located in the basement. A novel idea that has tempted many people into donating, just for the amusement of it.

"Shall we check out the ancient artifacts they discovered here?" Owen opted as he paced towards the next exhibit.

She nudged herself forward and agreed to follow. "You really are hooked on this aren't you?"

Owen was too distracted by the prospect of this world's history that her question did not key into his mind, until later. "Well, yes. Don't you think it's fascinating that this planet was once an entire city?"

She shrugged. "Well not really. This planet always seemed huge, why wasn't it once a huge city?

"I think it's very intriguing. Thousand of records of our ancient past could surface from this expedition. Who knows what we were like back then."

Sally flicked a pamphlet hanging nearby. "I guess we were no different than we are now. Rich getting richer and poor getting poorer."

"Are you referring to how this planet declined?"

"Did they really just leave the poor to die? I mean no wonder this planet fell!" She exclaimed.

"You don't know what happened, perhaps many tried to save this world and it was too late."

The two walked slowly around the different displays, documents showcasing various information.

Owen looked at a plaque, "Last census that was taken said the population was twenty billion. You know that may be a lot lower than our previous trillion, but at least we have an ocean."

Sally smiled. "Yeah, you know we should go to it again. Remember Low point?"

Owen nodded suavely. "Yes I remember, you could see the skyscrapers from across the water."

"Skyscrapers? What are talking about, all you can see from there are the floating isles!" Sally wrapped her arms around his, trying to regain his attention. "Owen, do you even know what I'm talking about?" She urged.

Owen's attention drifted. "Hmm, uh."

"Low point!" She restated, coldly.

"Yes I remember; you and I went there during the last rainy season."

"Yeah." She concluded. "We spent are time indoors cause it was so cold." She huddled into his hanging arm to reenact the cold shivers she remembered." We had to spend most of our time in that cozy cabin, but there was that one nice day."

Owen's eyes glazed over."Yes the sun was setting, the sky was orange."

She let go of his arms quickly and gave him a harsh nudge on the shoulder. "It was purple! Doesn't turn orange that time of year. Do you really remember Owen?"

Owen gave a swift node to convince her. "Yes, yes I do. It's just you have a clearer memory than mine." He leaned in closer to kiss her forehead but she pulled away.

"Don't try flirting this time Owen. I know you don't remember."

"I remember how you needed me to buy you pack of lozenges at the store, because your throat was sore."

Sally confronted him. "Oh sure, you remember my sore throat but you don't remember our romantic moments."

"I thought doting on you with your sore throat, was romantic."

She shook her head. "Okay, okay, maybe it was cute how you did massage my neck and gave me plenty of pillows to rest on. But that was during our trip home. Don't you recall our stay there?" She inquired.

He lingered. He tried his best to name one event that would convince her, suddenly it hit him. "It was late at night, everyone was gone from the lobby, and we just sat there watching the fire place, for hours." He made sure to drag out those last two words to indicate how dearly he kept it in his smirked and gave a tug on his arm. "You really do remember don't you?"

"I try."

"Come on." She opted. "Why don't you and I leave this place?"

"Already, do you have any particular place in mind?"

She pulled on his arm in a flirtatious manner and whispered. "I think so."

Owen held her close to him. "Well then you have my company."

Together they paced towards the exit, arm in arm.


	2. The Rude Awakening: Ch2

The rusted, but clean car moved up the gravel road. The sound of the air lifters jetting wind on the rocks could be heard as the vehicle made its way up the hill.

The house's roof peered over the stone walls as the car drove closer. The beautiful display it made greatly out shined the vehicle's as its appearance became more dominate.

The vehicle then finally stopped In front of the barrack of brass gates.

Owen did not move, only waited till the security camera set its lenses on him. Without hesitation, the gates opened up and like royalty; Owen continued his drive through.

The pathway was long and white between the house and the entrance. The tree's that lined the fence around the property only made this land more private. Such a contrast to the busy world that lay only a few miles from here. It was peaceful, filled with flora and fauna that few have ever seen.

Once he got close enough, he parked his vehicle and then stepped out.

The brown steps of the mansion were cleaned of dirt and its windows had not a speck on it.

Owen took a moment to gaze around as he stood on the mansions front porch; he rang the bell.

A faint echo of ringing was heard indoors.

After a long while of waiting, the tall, painted doors opened. There in the entrance hall stood a black cloaked figure, with a mask on his head of a stupid looking bird with blood shot eyes.

"This is new." Owen quipped in disturbance.

The tall man greeted him happily. "Owen! You're here!"

"Hello Alan, am I too early?" He asked.

The bird mask shook from side to side. "Nah you're right on time, I'm almost done, so why don't you head up to the sauna, and I'll finish her?"

"Sounds good." He nodded.

Alan waved to his servant over.

The clean man, dressed in white, walked over. He appeared to be human but his species was considerably smaller, like a grown man only the size of a child. He bowed his head to his master.

"Take him up to the sauna and see that he gets well treated." He ordered.

Owen would normally blush under the amount of kindness being shown to him but he was quite used to the way he was blessed here; he made sure to offer the servant his gratitude.

With that, Alan went away as Owen was lead to some much needed treatment.

He pulled out a key resting in his pocket and opened the decorated door.

Inside it revealed; resting on a wooden stool in the center; a beautiful woman clad in a yellow dress.

"Nice to see you again Mr. Iglesias." She greeted lovingly. "Was it anything serious?"

He waved of her curiosity as he sat down. "Nothing to worry about my dear, just business."

"Business? Are you involved in the mafia?" She flirted.

Alan did not bother looking as he continued to paint the model. "Maybe I am." He said.

She rolled her shoulders in a sexy manner. "Well that would be fascinating if you were. Perhaps that person was working for them, giving you a message. Then again you're way too nice a man to be involved in that sort of thing."

The sound of eyes rolling could be heard as he peered from behind his canvas. "You're too kind." He mocked.

"Well it would add to your aura of mystery, wouldn't you think?" She continued; her hair fell loosely as she playful pulled back her bangs. "Are you almost done with our portrait?"

Alan stopped his brush strokes. "I still need to make a few adjustments."

She started playing with her hair by raising her arms in the air and bending them back down in her golden brown locks. "Maybe you can paint me again some time?"

Alan tsked loudly. "Now, now that wouldn't be fair. You know I only paint a lady once." He scorned smartly.

"Yes." She pouted back. "But were having such a good time, I can tell you like me more than all your other models. It'd be a shame to make this our only painting."

Alan put down his brush and raised his hand. "Okay I am almost done but I need you to come over here for further details." He gestured.

She curiously got up and skipped over. "May I see…?" Her overeager attitude was brought down the moment Alan grabbed hold of her face, dumbfounded she stood there with her jaw clenched in his palm.

He held her face in an awkward position away from the painting as he continually looked back and forth from her and the project, getting the details he needed.

Finally she spoke. "Are you almost done?" She whined while her face was starting to develop cramps from the position.

Alan let go only to reach down for the bag next to the easel.

It was her bag and she made a great show of disapproval of his opening it.

He grabbed the camera inside and took a photo of her face before she had a chance to react.

Her eyes were stunned from the flash and she waved her head about. "What? I, I uh. That camera is not mine, why did you put it there!" She frightfully claimed.

Without a problem, he removed the reel from the camera and gave it back to her. "I don't own cameras but it was very convenient of you to bring one today. Now I don't need you in person. You may go now." He wisped as he coiled the roll into his pocket.

She was still very confused and waved her arms about in anger. "Now see here! I came to get my picture drawn and I will not be treated in such a way!" She screamed loudly. She tossed herself about as she reached to grab his mask and yank it off his head. "I will see your face one way or another!"

Fortunately for Alan he made sure the mask was locked on tight for he could not loosen her grip on it. Plus in the rustle between them, he found it hard to gain the upper hand that would get her under control. "Thaddeus!" He cried out.

A well dressed gentleman of fifty plus years walked in. He took one gander at the circumstances and said, "Oh my, shall I get the hand cuffs sir?"

"Yes." He grunted midst the screaming. "And get the gag too!"

It took a while before both Alan and Thaddeus could get her under control but they finally managed to calm her, albeit rather forcefully. After she was tied down, Alan ordered his servant to gently take her back to the station without hurting her. Despite Thaddeus's old stature he managed the task quite well as he removed her from the premises.

Alan removed his mask when she was finally gone. Underneath the fabric was a very handsome face, but it was sad. He went to take a closer view of his painting, It was of the lady and its yellow strokes shone vibrantly. With disgust, he covered it with his smock. He wiped his sweated brow, and even though it was short; he still pulled back a few strand of hair. "Perhaps I need the sauna too." He thought.

Owen had been, for most of the time; resting on the wooden bench inside the sauna. The steam relieved the stress with each pump of hot water. The thoughts of yesterday faded, his focus was clear, his mind in the state of rest. It had been for some time he was like this; with the warm steam calming him. Maybe even feel asleep during this time but the state between rest and reality was foggy. Something started to appear before him.

The feminine figure was curved midst the steam. Only her silhouette was seen as it appeared to be walking towards him.

He raised his head to get a closer look.

The figure was before him, she stood there looking down at him. Suddenly she vanished in the gust of wind that occurred from the opening door.

Alan walked in, he too was wearing a towel round the waist.

Owen shook his head quickly to try and wake himself; he took note at Alan's weary walk. "You're done already?" He asked.

Alan sat down across from him. "Yeah she um, had to go." He sighed.

Owen knew what that meant and got up from his laying position to that of a sitting one, making sure his towel covered him well. "That bad?" He wondered.

Alan rolled his eyes. "Let's just say her interest in me ended after I told her to leave."

Owen nodded with understanding. "Was she violent?"

Alan could barley hold back the sarcastic reply to that understatement. "I would say insane psycho would be a better term."

He gave his condolences. "I'm sorry about that; you dislike those models the most." He remembered.

Alan shook his head harshly. "As much as I don't like the ones that try and rip my head off..! It's the ones that try to flirt to no end with me that I hate the most." He stated. "You know there being paid to do so and for what? So that they can tell the media what I look like? So they can say 'I slept with the famous artist'! I feel as used as they do." He sighed mournfully.

"I don't blame you,"

He looked up sadly with his hunched over shoulders. "I just wish… I wish I could find her, not these empty-headed girls they keep giving me. It's embarrassing." He growled.

Owen shrugged. "Why do you continue bringing in models anyway, if you know they're only here to get a shot of your face?"

He took a moment to think over in his head. "Well, I hope, one day; the model that comes in would be the one I'm looking for!"

He failed to understand the logic. "Al, how would you know if she's the one? All these women have something to gain by seeing you. You can't trust them no matter how nice they are. That is why I don't think you'll find this woman through the models you bring in." He said.

He took a deeper glance at him as he rested back in his wooden seat. "What do you mean?"

He politely lectured, "You're selling yourself short if you think your match would agree to this line of work; after all the model business, is well..."

Alan shook his hands to get Owen to stop. "Trust me I know! I've been there."

He cocked his eyebrows in curiosity. "You've been there? What do you mean?" He began asking smugly.

Alan was embarrassed as he blushed nervously. "I took it up in the past, just to earn money; but it's very...stupid." He explained brashly.

Own couldn't help but giggle at that story. "Alright then, so do you think she's a model?"

"I don't know, it's just that it's the only way I can really think of for searching, I mean how else do I find her? It's not like she's in my backyard!" He complained.

Owen twirled his mustache in thought, "She might be, though I'd question her hobbies if she were."

He looked slightly frustrated as he watched him. "I'm beginning to think you only grew a mustache just so you could do that,"

He turned back to him with his fingers still holding the bristles under his nose. "To make witty remarks?" He concluded.

He only sighed in an aggravated manner.

A smirk swept across Owens's face. "So uh, what sort of things were you asked to do in the modeling business?"

He raised his hand yet again. "Don't even go there!" He was going to switch subject till a thought entered his head. "Hey, wait a minute, weren't going to tell me about what happened to you yesterday?" Alan quickly recalled. Anything to get Owen to stop inquiring.

Owen was surprised he had forgotten himself. "Yes I did say that didn't I?"

Alan clasped his hand in his lap. "Well? What happened you seemed so excited?"

Owen smiled at his friends eager await for the report. "Alright, you know how I told you about my dreams?" He asked, though the question was rhetorical. "And how they were always the same with her saying, 'Find me?"

Alan nodded.

"Yesterday on my way to work I bumped into a lady who looked exactly like her!"

Alan almost seemed to be disappointed as he thought for a brief moment. "Could of it just been a coincidence?"

Owen gladly reassured him. "I was contemplating that myself but last night, I got the dream again but this time, she said. 'Come to me." He elaborated boldly.

Alan took that as good evidence as he shook his head yes. "Okay so she said one word different, and that makes a difference how?" He recalled.

Owen scowled slightly. "I have been waiting twelve years for something to change; I'm not going to be picky!" He boldly claimed.

Alan agreed. "Okay, okay. But how are you going to see her again?"

Owen didn't really want to explain the embarrassment that occurred soon after but felt that it was necessary. "Well I offered to have her dress cleaned; she said she'd send it to me today. But what had happened is that um, my new boss had already done in it for her."

"Why would your new boss do that?" He wondered.

"He's her boyfriend."

Alan seared in air through his teeth to indicate the pain he could sense. "Ouch, so I guess that ruined your chance of seeing her again." He waited for Owen to nod in agreement. "But she may still come to tell you, I mean she doesn't know that you know, right?"

Owen shrugged. "Not unless she tells her boyfriend what I looked like, she won't know."

"What do you mean?"

Owen explained. "Let's just say my new boss. 'Mr. Stone' made careful note to complain how some idiot spilled coffee on her earlier."

Alan could not help but laugh at how much that sounded like a complete failure.

Owen tried to hide it but couldn't help but smirk along with him. "Needless to say I made a stink of myself there by trying to defend this 'idiot'."

Alan concluded what that may have resulted in. "So you had a bad day at the office, at least he doesn't know you're the idiot." He rest assured.

Owen gave him a disappointed look. "Oh, thanks."

Alan wiped his head for it was getting rather hot in the sauna. "So then, what's going on with you and Sally?" He said in switching topic.

Owen snickered but it was half-hearted. "Well she accused me of cheating this morning."

Alan nudged his head back, "What?"

"When I was on the phone with you, Sally was getting ready to go out. But you know how I said 'I love you too' at the end?"

Alan snickered at their inside joke but then realized what might have happened. "Oh wait? She overheard that? You mean she thought..?" He watched Owen motion yes as he began to laugh. "How did you get outta that?"

"I explained to her that it was just a buddy of mine, but it startled me that she would think that way." He continued.

His laughter quieted down. "So how's it going now?"

Owen rubbed his hair, "Well the date that followed after didn't exactly go well either."

Alan continued with interest. "Did something happen?"

"Well, earlier today after our date, she wanted us to have a private moment together; out at Parse's Park in the eastern look-out area."

Alan filled in the blanks. "You mean the make-out place?"

Owen ignored the brash comment after a brief moment of irritation and confessed. "She wanted to do it at the look-out while an elderly couple was walking by, I felt so foolish that I had to push her away." He admitted with embarrassment.

Alan failed to take him seriously as he imagined the awkwardness of seeing his friend in that scenario. It took a while until he finally stopped snickering.

"Please Alan! It was very uncomfortable for me!"

"Okay, okay." He admitted honestly. "I just really can't see you making out with anyone," His laughter almost raised up again but for Owens sake, he kept it down.

"Anyway, I pushed her away; I'm afraid I embarrassed her." He repented.

"Not like she was doing that to you," Al remarked.

He glared ad he returned to talking. "Anyway, she was very upset with what I did, our date ended early. When we got back all she did was return to cleaning the back room, she wouldn't talk to me. It was very awkward." He recalled.

Al was silent, and then asked, "Did she hear your apology?"

He shook his head. "Well I said it often as I tried to explain but, like I said she was silent the whole way through."

Alan squinted his eyes as he thought twice about his next words. "Owen, can I ask you something?"

He took the risk of it being a more crudely honest statement, and agreed.

"Does she really love you?"

Owen was caught off guard with those words. "What!?"

"Well she just doesn't sound..." Alan struggled with the next words in his boyish way. "_Respectful _of you?"

Owen looked down and thought for a moment. "Of course she loves me, this whole business is not her being disrespectful; she just doesn't understand."

Alan sighed in defeat. "All right if you say so."

Owen nodded to reassure himself. "She does care about me, but to be honest, I think she's pushing me."

"I'd say so."

Owen felt weak. "I guess her idea of a boyfriend is different than what I can give. I've just been so content with our dates, we were happy going out. But now she wants to do things faster and I just can't fulfill this perception she has. I can't keep up." He wheezed. "But I love her very much," He continued once more.

"So what are you going to do now?" Alan thought.

Owen was stumped as he twiddled his own hands. "I haven't a clue. She seems so upset with me; I don't know how to talk to her. We were so happy before all this." He said in regret.

"It will get you nowhere unless you talk to her, tried flowers?" He opted.

Owen rolled his eyes. "With the state she's in she'll probably think I'm trying to bribe her, and she would too."

Alan took into consideration that there may be one explanation to all this. "Don't worry about it, she's probably just feeling moody that's all. Wait about a week then talk to her, she'll be fine." He answered.

Owen looked impassively at Alan. "And just how exactly am I going to explain a week long absence?" He questioned.

"Well do you want to talk to her tonight?" He confronted.

"I should and I will." Owen confirmed. "Just what I am going to say I don't know."

"Why don't you just tell her what you've told me?"

Owen took the advice and nodded in consent, he sighed knowing it wasn't going to be easy. "Look I am loosing pounds here in this heat, shall we retire?"

Alan looked at him funny. "What, at your age? Shouldn't you wait twenty years?"

He got up. "By then I'll be a pile of bones if I stay in here."

The two were now reclined in the entertainment room; Thaddeus had lit the fireplace to brighten up the wine colour atmosphere. While Alan took the opportunity to pull out a much needed cigarette. He used the flames from the fire to light it and carefully placed it in his mouth. After a puff, took it out again. He stood tall with his arms crossed as he gazed at the antiques hanging on the mantle. The portrait above it was a beautiful scene depicting a series of waterfalls gently pouring out onto a green field.

"You know of all of your paintings, that one is my favourite." Owen commented from the reclined couch.

His body stayed in position but he turned his head to reveal the smile he had on. "Mine too." He answered.

"You drew that from memory?" He inquired.

Alan lifted the cigarette to his mouth again. "It was from a dream."

"That's why I love it so much." He commented again "The fact that it stuck in your head so vividly makes that piece all the more fascinating." Owen noticed Alan's silent, sadden expression, "Are you alright?" He wondered.

Alan shuffled his feet as he readjusted his stance. "I'm fine." He claimed.

Owen could tell that there was something the matter. In his attempt to find out what he only said two words. "Your mother?"

Alan thought to look repulsed by Owens over shot but knew how true he got it. He gave in with the smoke departing from his frown. "I don't want to take about it." He whimpered, he almost showed a tear but kept it in.

He stayed quiet, as he watched Alan move away to a chair with an ash tray next to it.

"That paining is a mixed blessing, some days it's nice to look at and other days…" He lowered his voice to a solemn tone. "Quite the opposite."

"It makes you remember whatever you're forgetting?" He wondered.

Alan proudly tried to hide his emotions as he took another puff.

Owen's face read empathy, but he lowered his lids as he thought about his reason why. "Every time I come over I can see it."

"What?"

Owen gave a peaceful glance. "You know what I mean."

He sighed. "Yeah I certainly do."

"When was the last time you heard from Hannah anyway?"

Alan looked at Owen oddly. "Last month and when I write to her next, I'll let her know you called her Hannah."

Owen couldn't resist the urge to say the name. "That will make her happy I'm sure." He smiled. "By the way, does she have many friends over at Glo-ana?"

Alan confirmed it with a yes. "Though to tell you the truth she thinks they cheat at gin." He explained.

Owen laughed, and then Alan continued slowly. "Do you... have anything you want to say to her when I send out my next letter?"

"Just let her know that I am looking forward to our next cup of tea together." He grinned.

Alan gave him his word that he would. He was well aware that Owens's relationship with his mom was that of a close one. He always figured she filled the void Owen lost. Either way he never looked into it, it always seemed rather odd from his point of view.

The door opened and in walked in the small servant from earlier. He was carrying a tray of fine wine with intricately designed glasses. He set himself before Owens feet as he poured the first glass and handed it to him.

Owen gave his thanks as he took the burgundy coloured temptation.

Alan was given his glass too. "Thank you Archie, you're done for the evening." He ordered.

Archie bowed his head in thanks and left the room in anticipation for his break from the day.

"Evening? How late is it?" Owen wondered.

Alan took a look at his clock. "It's past seven, why? Do you need to go somewhere?"

Owen reflected on the idea of needing to go home early but shook his head no. "I don't need to go right away."

Alan didn't seem to mind as he took a sip of his drink. "Are you going to end up staying the night, again?" He wondered.

Owen shook the idea off. "No I can't do that to Sally. I told you she'd get suspicious."

"Of you?" Owen you're a regular boy scout, I can't assume you'd do anything wrong."

Owen figured it best to just take those last words as a compliment. "I know but as I said before…"

"Do you think she's still on the war path?" He presumed.

"I don't know, perhaps she will have calmed down after some time alone." He concluded hopefully.

"If she throws a plate at your head, that's a no."

"Al!" He rebuked.

"What? How good is her aim anyway?"

He then thought for a moment as he rubbed his bearded chin. "Pretty good, actually."

They both gave each other a nervous look of worry.

Meanwhile…

Sally was busy at her desk sorting through a pile of papers or at least trying to.

It was either piled on top of each other or falling to the floor one by one.

But despite the tranquil street cars honking in the distance, she found it hard to concentrate on things. Then her forte of greeting customers came in as the wooden door creaked opened. To her surprise an elegant lady of stature walked through the door way.

Clearly her apparent wealth shone in her looks, wealth that greatly exceeded that of the apartment's current rates. The lady looked very intuitive, though didn't pass judgment on the place. She humbly stepped towards Sally. "Excuse me, can I find a man named Mr. Kensington here?"

Sally was more than dumb-founded as she tried to think of a reason as to why this woman would know Owen. "He's not here right now." She explained curiously.

She was gracious for the explanation but frowned slightly in disappointment. "Oh, I am sorry to hear that, I wanted to talk to him in person." She sorrowfully claimed. "Will he be coming soon then?"

Sally gestured no. "I don't know when he's coming back." She huffed in slight irritation towards herself. "You can leave me the message if you like." She offered.

Serena showed no signs of doing so unless she knew the lady could be trusted. "Are you his landlord?" She asked.

"I'm also his girlfriend," She added.

She nodded her head in acceptance and dictated the message. "Can you tell Mr. Kensington that I won't be sending it to him and that my boyfriend unexpectedly took care of it? Can you also be kind enough to let him know that I am very sorry that I can't meet him and I would if it weren't for other pressing engagements?" She stated regretfully.

Sally bobbed her head to indicate yes though she could not stop the nagging curiosity as to what she referring to. "I will tell him, may I give him your name?" She inquired further.

She agreed. "Tell him it was Serena who came."

"I will." She answered.

Serena said goodbye and left Sally her thanks.

It was a while before she stopped looking at the door which Serena long departed from. Her suspicions were mixed with jealousy as she looked at her dirty cluttered desk.

Hours later, after the papers on the desk were finally removed; Sally had taken up residence in her room. Her sock covered feet had been her only comfort aside from her pillow which she stuffed by her stomach. Huddled in the fetal position as she mulled over the thoughts in her head, the door was knocked on and the sound it made worried her. "No help after hours!" She yelled out.

Owen opened the door gently to peer in to see if she was okay. "Sally?" He whispered fatherly.

Sally crinkled her nose and lifted her body up to look at him. "I don't want you in here; I wouldn't want anything to happen!" She bitterly exclaimed.

Owen grimaced as he held his eyes tight and closed the door while he walked inside. "Sally enough of this!" He ordered.

Sally growled. "You're not allowed in her! You know that!" She nervously demanded.

Owen sat down on her bed. "What's all this about?" He sighed.

She didn't want to lower her defense and frowned at him oddly. "You tell me. You pushed me away, then disappeared for hours without word!" She confronted.

Owen only looked at her gently. "Sally, we need to talk about this next step. And I want to say something that I don't think you know." He spoke.

She gave a slight nod of curiousness, while she waited for him to share the answer.

He took a deep breath. "Your idea of the next step is completely different than mine." He spoke honestly.

She could think of no words to retaliate with, as she lowered her head in shame.

"You want me to do things that I am not comfortable with, you have this idea of what a boyfriend should be and I'm telling you that I am not that person. I do not sleep freely and I do not make a spectacle of myself in public." He lectured.

Sally's heart grew heavier with each word.

"And I do not cheat on a woman that I am very much in love with." He admitted.

She took a look at him with eyes turning red. "Owen?"

Owen could sense it and took the opportunity to hug her.

"I guess I just, Oh Owen, I'm sorry for all of this. I just want you to be mine." Sally confessed, kissing his neck.

He retaliated and kissed her lips. "I am!" He replied. "But we need to be respectful of one another here. Not to try and push the other, okay?"

She nodded her head slowly. "I am sorry about earlier. I just didn't think it mattered so much." She emphasized.

Owen gave her a perplexed look. "Sally? Don't you think it's disrespectful to see two people in an intimate kiss right in front of you?"

She snickered. "Well, their own fault for watching." She teased.

Owen did not share the amusement as he gave her a disappointed glare.

She took it to heart and backed off while resting her arm on his shoulder. "Hey I'm sorry kay? I was just fooling. I guess it is embarrassing when you think about it." She finally confessed.

He rubbed his eyelids. "To say the least," He wheezed.

"Okay, so aside from the no sex and the no kissing in public." she continued. "What are you comfortable with?"

He sighed. "I'm comfortable with just talking to you, looking at your face, and holding your hand. It's you I want Sally, not your body." He clarified.

She seemed almost surprised by what he said and did not reply. She even looked away from him during her realization. "How is that any different than what we did before?" She asked.

Owen nodded his head like he already thought of this earlier. He didn't say a word.

"So you don't want to take a step forward?" She asked in growing disappointment.

"Sally it seems to me that we were doing just fine with our current pace till you felt, and I felt that we needed more."

She could not believe his nerve. "After what we talked about last night and you want to back out?" She argued.

Owen shook his head. "No I don't, I am asking you Sally, what do you consider a step forward to be?" He asked humbly.

But Sally shook her head and looked ready to cry. "That's all I want to know Owen, I want to know what you think a step forward is, because I don't know! I'm different." She begged, with her showing emotions. "I'm confused and I just want to hear what you think because I feel like there's pressure on me to do something while I have no idea what it is. What do you want me to do?" She cried out.

Owen looked like a valiant knight as he understood her plea. He took her hand and with love, he looked into her eyes.

"Marry me?" He asked.

Sally stopped and stared at him. "What?"

He took hold of her hand. "Sally I think it's time, we both feel it, we can't continue at this pace unless we move forward and I want to be by your side officially, forever." He stated truthfully. "Will you marry me?" He asked again.

Sally could not stop her growing shock; she could barely believe this was even happening. "You mean... Yes!" She nodded. "Yes!" She exclaimed louder.

Together they met in a tight embrace. Owen had to keep up with all her sudden movements of ever growing joy. "Are you still up for that romantic date tomorrow?" He lovingly teased.

She began to cry joy as she started to kiss his face harder with her tear soaked lips.

Owen did not mind the salty bitterness as he received the loving pecks.

"Do you really mean it?" She whispered as she took a breather to rest her forehead against his. "Do you truly mean it?"

"Don't you believe me?" He asked as he coiled his arms around her body.

"I can't believe it, here I thought you…" She muffled her words in his shirt. "I thought you wanted to break-up with me." She cried.

Owen could not help but laugh at how off that statement was. "Darling, why would I do that?"

She looked at him intently. "I felt so undeserving of you today, you are so much better than me." Sally cried. "I don't deserve you…" she bawled out again.

Owen felt a little dizzy midst the tears. He looked down at the gleaming red head and kissed it. "I love you Sally, so much. I want you as my wife." He whispered.

Sally sniffled back her tears. "I want to Owen. Everything about you would make a great husband; we are going to be so happy together! I don't suppose we can settle a date, can we?" She opted, looking for a hopeful response.

He pondered the thought, and then answered. "Six months is what normal people do."

"Yes but we don't have any relatives to invite or any money for arrangements, so why wait?"

"Still." Owen offered. "Six months is a good amount of time, we should keep it."

She agreed. "Okay six months," She laughed. "Do you want to do anything now or…?"

He kissed before she had a chance to finish. "I think we better just call it a night. It's late; you're drowsy despite how happy you are." He teased as he nudged his nose against hers. "I think we need some rest before we continue tomorrow."Goodnight my dear." Owen lulled to her.

She tried to wipe her tears away with her hand as she cleared her head. She made sure to stop Owen before he left the room. "Oh, Owen!" She called out.

He turned around with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Yes?"

She waved her hands and collected her thoughts. "I probably should mention before I forget. A woman came for you earlier."

The dream faded. "A woman?"

"Yeah." She waved. "Said her name was Serena and that she wanted me tell you that she wasn't going to bring it in; whatever that meant, said her boyfriend took care of it."

The space around him lay still as he listened. "Oh?" He replied.

"Yeah, though I have no idea what she was talking about. What did she mean?" She asked with her mind still happily dizzy.

Owen paused with no real expression other than that of deep thought. "Uh, she was referring to her dress that I spilled coffee on. I offered to have it dry-cleaned."

She laughed in merriment, "Well that's good then! You don't have to worry about paying for it anymore! She looked rich enough to pay for it herself anyways." She joked.

Owen did not respond, his eyes were still too busy staring into blank space. "I um, suppose so." He nodded with a good grip on the door handle. "Good night my beloved, sleep well." He moved the door with her responding good night as he closed it.

Once in the silence of the eerily lit halls he waited, for what he didn't know. "She came? And that's all she said?" He shook his head in disgust to himself. "I am just a stranger to her," He sighed to let out the excess frustration and continued down the hall back to his room.

It was very late and Owen flicked the lights on, he put away his keys and listened to the loud clank it made on the counter. The room seemed quiet, almost too quiet for his liking; an unusual thought entered his mind, a buzzing rang in his ear. "Whose' there?" He called out.

There was no reply in the empty room.

Owen stepped forward, recalling the last time he felt more uneasy in his own home. He went to the window to get some air and peered out onto the street, maybe the sound was coming from outside?

Sirens went off in the distance; animals growled in the alleyways, a silhouette of a woman was shadowed on a far wall.

He squinted his eyes to get a better view of it, trying to make it out.

The woman's shadow disappeared.

Owen rubbed his eyes with great disapproval of himself, "What a fool I am, I'm even starting to hallucinate! I have been putting too much thought into this Serena when I have real things to think about. Sally is where my focus is at." He lifted his head high in pride and smiled at the stars. "And I'm going to marry her,"

A gunshot sounded.

The shot barely missed him, Owen lunged back and he fell to the floor, he covered his head in shock. A light in his room exploded. The bullet must have hit a bulb and short circuited the breaker, for the power went out instantaneously.

He panted heavily as he lifted his trembling hands.

The sudden chaos was replaced with an eerie silence; in the distance, a woman screamed.

Owen looked to the phone on the counter with panic stricken eyes; he got up and swiftly headed for it. He dialed for emergency as he waited impatiently for them to pick up. "Yes? Mr. Hief? This is Iagan, There's an emergency, and a gunshot was just fired at me, in my room! Yes? Yes I will." Owen looked patiently around and as he kept the phone on the line, then suddenly a thought hit him.

"Sally!"

He ran downstairs with the phone still to his ear. He got to her door and opened without restraint.

Sally got up the moment she saw him, and stared bewildered. "Owen?" She cried in confusion.

He locked the door tight before running to her side and wrapping his arms around her.

She was still confused, "Are you afraid of the dark or something?"

Sirens sounded outside as their call came in louder and louder till they finally stopped outside the buildings door.

Owen rested his forehead against hers, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

Hours passed and the police lights still flashed off the building as Owen and Sally waited outside with officers encircling the area. It had seemed like forever that they were here, asking questions, inspecting the premise or at least to Sally it seemed that way.

Owen, who stood by her, made sure to rest his arm on her shoulders as he pulled her in closer. "You alright?" He wondered.

She shivered fiercely. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little winded. How long do the police need to be here?" She wondered midst her trembling.

Owen looked around as he watched the protective men do their part by forming a blockade around the premise with their bodies, he could relate. "They're just doing their job." He gently said.

"Well I hope they finish up in there, cause I'm freezing!" She whined.

Owen didn't ignore her plea as he waved down a passing officer.

The man in uniform obeyed as he walked over.

"Can we go in yet, my fiancé is getting cold." He asked.

The man looked at the shivering lady and nodded his head as he asked them to wait there. He went off to go talk to his chief.

In the distance and elderly man with bold features listened to the officer, he appeared to nod back and walked towards Owen and Sally. His cold appearance was deceiving as he smiled to her. "It's alright now Ms. Brooke. My men are done so you may go in."

She appeared to seem quite irritated by the fact she was not told this sooner and rushed inside.

But Owen did not even try to follow as he turned to continue walking beside the chief. "So what was it?"

He raised back his head. "Public dispute, you just happened to be caught in a jealous women's bad aim." He explained.

"So Sally and I aren't in any danger?" Owen wondered.

He replied. "Depends, does she know your real name?"

Owen shook his head. "No, I told no one."

"I hear she's your fiancé, and you never told her?"

Owen looked down, wondering if this was a test. "I remember what you told me. Have you changed your mind?" He argued.

"Just making sure, you came very close tonight Iagan. How did you explain it to her?"

"I told her the truth, someone tried to kill me."

He folded his arms and nodded. "Well now when you go to bed tonight, you can say that it was nothing more than a stray bullet."

Owen thought of what he was referring to. "If she did know, can she be placed under protection too?"

"By law yes, but only if you were married. If you say anything before hand you will be charged. Not by the government though, and the fee would be her life." he warned.

He shook his head. "Must the secrecy still be so strict?" He wondered.

"You agreed to be in this Iagan, I only am trying to keep you safe!" He lectured.

Owen could only brush off those words and began to plea. "Connel, it's been twelve years. No one has heard of the killer since then, the only times you do come over are for false alarms. Doesn't it come to a point where this is no longer necessary?"

"Sure." He brazenly stated. "When you're dead."

Owen gave off an intimidating look of displeasure as he stared off Connel, till he backed down and sighed.

Connel was disappointed with himself too. "Look Iagan, I'm sorry. I know you want to see your family again but I can't let you off that easy. This man is dangerous you never know when he might come back."

Owen nodded. "I understand."

"Good, look you don't need to be out here still. We got what we needed so were heading out now. Is there anything else you'd like to ask?" He offered.

"How are they?"

He backed off. "Except that!"

"Please?" He begged. "What harm can it do?"

He grimaced sadly. "I would be breaching security if I passed that information on to you."

"Then at least tell me if they're alive." He pleaded again.

He looked down stubbornly, but sighed in defeat. "They are.., still alive." He sighed.

He gave a tremendous sigh of relief, unlike anything he's done before. "That is…thank you Connel! Thank you." He was over-whelmed with joy as he reached out to him.

Connel shook the hand in return. "I don't know why you need to know this, it's not like you have a good prospect of ever seeing them again." He wondered.

"Blame it on the stars; every time I see them I think I still have a chance." He explained.

Mr. Hief couldn't understand much of it so he shrugged. "If you think that, then I'd say you're letting your hopes up, but hey what do I know?"

"Thanks again for your time." Owen reassured.

He only rolled his eyes, "Every time you're in danger…" He muttered. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He replied as he watched Connel leave. He stood for a moment as he watched the officers get back in their cars. Instead of going back in he stood on the lawn in deep thought. "Iagan," He wondered in his head. "I haven't been called that for a long time." Though now Owen Kensington, It was once Iagan Rhys in his youth, on the planet of Gaelaga where he grew up.

Twelve years ago, on the eve of his graduation, he was driving his parent's home and through no fault of his own, his vehicle was struck by a callous driver. The accident resulted in the hospitalization of both his parents, as for the other driver he was killed on impact; his two surviving sons were also hospitalized. Owen or rather Iagan at the time, wasn't wounded terribly and was able to go home that night, but not without a heavy burden of guilt. The morning that followed resulted in a traumatizing event. While he was sleeping, someone had snuck into his house and vandalized his bedroom walls. Painted with letters written in animal's blood, they read one thing,

"Justice,"

he never wanted to understand it but he always felt it was done by someone who blamed him for the accident. He was told by authorities that the accident was not his fault, but the pain of those sick letters stuck heavily in his mind as a scaring memory. The following days would result in him receiving death threat after death threat in morbid and twisted ways. It sickened him that it took some doing before the police agreed to do a watch around his house as his only means of protection.

Then the nights of his parents return came, he kept the recent events quiet to not worry them, but he could not hide it for long. After they went to bed, happily ignorant of what was occurring, Iagan stood in the house's kitchen, with a growing fear lurching inside him. He was told in the last death threat that justice would be given tonight. He held a knife in his hands for the combat he knew he would encounter. The sound of another man was heard in the dark shadows of his house. He turned his body to see who was there, but all he heard was warped, heavy breathing.

That's when the deadly stranger lunged.

Iagan was strong for his age and managed to hold the monster at bay in their death defying struggle. But he swiped the hidden knife into his arm and the killer retreated. The sound of his screaming caused the police nearby to come rushing in and his parents to run downstairs. Horrifically, the killer got away. The police never found him, he was placed on high alert watch for he had murdered five officers in his escape, he was well equipped and highly unusual compared to any criminal they have ever encountered. It perplexed them that Iagan was his target, he was only a country boy living in a small town, what did he have that the killer wanted?

The question was never answered; according to his planets law, Iagan could not be used to lure the criminal out of hiding for he was an innocent, instead he had to be protected on a a high security level, because the criminal became a level eight public threat. With that order, Iagan went into the innocent's protection program for his own safety. But in order to do so it meant saying goodbye to his parents until this monster was apprehended. His name would be changed, his records erased so he could not be traced and assigned to a protecting guard officer. Then finally, he would be relocated to Curosaca, to start a new life, with a new name; Owen Kensington.

Owen looked up to the heavens as he thought of his grieving past. He felt in his heart that he had forgotten much of his history; the thought alone saddened him greatly, he didn't want to come to terms with the fact that his heritage, his cultural, his story; was being lost in the waves of time. He felt lost as he looked at the glistening sphere above him. After a long while passed, he slowly went back up to his room. When he got there, his finance was sitting at the counter with two mugs of hot cider placed next to her.

Her worried face met his surprised one as she ran over to him for a much needed embrace. "I guess I didn't realize how close you came to getting hit! Gosh Owen, I never I felt so worried!"

"But I'm safe now." He whispered. "Do you want to sleep in my room tonight; on the couch?" He offered, after noting her grief.

"You'd let me?" She wondered.

"Why not? Were engaged now aren't we? Besides, you made us some lovely drinks."

"It's to make up for yesterday, we both never finished the cocoa." She snickered in his pressed shirt.

"Well I like cider more any way's." He said reassuringly.

Sally pulled away from the hug now filled with more confidence. "I hope you'll like it."

He rested on the counters stool and began drinking. "I assure you, I love it."

She sat next to him. "Well drink up because that's the one I put sleeping pills in."

"Sleeping..?" He wondered as to what this would bring about. "Well I guess after tonight it's very much needed."

Sally concurred as she rested her head on his shoulders. "I was so happy earlier." She sighed.

"You should still be!" He insisted. "You have nothing to throw you off Sally!" He spoke as he pulled her face forward. "Were going to be married, no matter what happens!"

She glowed under his encouraging words and smiled again. "I know Owen; I can't wait to be your wife." She croaked.

He hugged her, his eye were not dazed but focused as he rested his chin on the top of her head, still deep in thought from the near brush he had with his frightening past, "And I, your husband." He whispered to himself.

The breeze stopped blowing through the window drapes.


	3. The Portrait: Ch3

On the highlands of this spiritual world, Owen found himself in the same dream land once again. Like many times before, he awaited for the lady of the realm to come back to him. But this time, she wasn't there.

Owen looked about; what was wrong? Every dream was the same, he stood below as he looked up to the angel in the clouds, but it was different this round. Something was wrong, very, wrong. He stared about like a frightened child to see where she was.

The clouds appeared swiftly, she did not look at him for her back was turned; or rather his back was for she came up behind him.

Owen made fast to catch her long missed presence, but what he saw was not a sad maiden of gentle aura; no, this time she was quite the opposite.

She was painfully hurt, anger could be sensed. She was displeased with him but not in a threatening way, it was something else that she was angry at, or maybe even scared.

He desperately tried to find out why as he reached for her.

She only looked down at him. "If you do not come to me now," Her voice commanded. It quickly turned to a tone filled with lurching remorse. "You never will," She whispered.

With that, the dream ended.

He woke up in a cold sweat, the birds chirped outside; he sat up in his bed to see out the window, making sure that he was in reality again.

"You okay Owen?" She wondered.

Owen looked at the red head across the room; he had forgotten that he had let her stay the night. He even thought that he was married to Sally already, "Oh, I'm fine. Good morning dear," He crinkled his nose in delight as the smell of warm baked goods hit his nose. "What's that smell?"

She lifted the tray of sweets off the counter and brought them over to him. "Hank from the bakery heard about what happened last night and brought over some pastries for us, wasn't that nice of him?" She chirped as she rested the tray on his lying body.

Owen smiled, though it would have been brighter if it weren't for his experience earlier. "Oh yes, that is very nice of him! Give him my thanks." He nodded cheerfully.

"What's wrong?" She asked out of the blue.

Owen shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. "Nothing," Owen refrained. He joined Sally in there delightful little breakfast in bed routine as they ate the pastries, but Own found it hard to enjoy them with his mind so busy. After a while he regained her attention, "Um, look Sally I shouldn't do this to you but, I need to clear my head after what happened last night, so would it be alright if I went out for the day? There are some things I need to take care of."

Sally slouched back in disbelief and irritation. "What?" she huffed, "I was hoping you and I can spend the day together, especially after what happened!" She whined truthfully.

Owen raised his hands up to her shoulders and nodded fiercely with each of her points but he had to get a word in. 'Yes, yes I know but, I need to go somewhere my dear. I know and I promise you a very romantic date tonight but for this morning, I must go." He clarified.

It took some convincing but she agreed. "Alright if you need to clear your mind go ahead, but I want you to come back first thing okay?" She demanded with a subtle threat.

His relived smile turned to puckered lips as he kissed her forehead. "Thank you Sally." Owen got up and headed for his bathroom to get ready for the day.

A short while passed and Sally paced outside the door as she made his room, playing the role as his wife in hopeful anticipation.

Owen yelled out from behind the bathroom walls where he was taking a shower. "Are you cleaning up out there Sally?"

She retaliated. "Don't worry Owen; you really didn't leave me much to clean! Are you always this much of a neat freak?"

Muffled laughter was sounded among the pouring water. "Do you want to marry a slob?"

"No, but you really didn't give me much to do while I'm here. I figured it'd be nice to clean up, but you seem to have a bad habit of making everything spotless!" She joked.

He laughed again. "If you're bored why don't you clean the other rooms? I'm sure the tenants wouldn't mind."

She smiled at the gall of his statement and retaliated. "I might mind since I'm not marrying them!"

"Well were not married yet Sally, so just be patient." He explained happily.

"Alright then Owen, I'll be heading downstairs now, should I leave the baked goods here as well?"

"Well unless you can scarf down a whole plate of Mun-mun's, I suggest you leave just a few for me." He teased.

"I leave the whole thing, better for you to get love handles than me." She admitted humorously. "I'm going downstairs now, bye Owen."

"Goodbye Sally, see you soon."

It was but a short time later that he came out. Owen changed quickly into fitting clothes and headed out the door. He gave a goodbye kiss to Sally making sure to give full promise of his return, and then got into his vehicle outside.

It was a relatively short drive even though his friend's house was on the outskirts of town. But like clockwork, he made it there fairly early. Once again he stood outside the mansions door waiting to be answered, but to his surprise Thaddeus opened it, and his face read worry.

"Oh thank goodness you're here Master Kensington!" He said in relief.

Owen stepped inside and concerned himself over Thaddeus. "What's wrong? Is Alan alright?"

He shook his head, "I'm afraid his lungs took a tax last night; he fell into the doldrums then barricaded himself inside his study with two packs of nails. Hasn't come out since, I fear he is but a smolder now,"

Owen gave Thaddeus his sympathy as he offered to reawaking Alan from his state. With that said, he was lead to the entrance of his lair. They waited outside as Thaddeus approached the circular wooden doors and called from outside. "Master Steedman? Your friend is here, he's come to see you." He pleaded humbly.

Inside muffled faint speech of a hazed man spoke. "Wha, he is? Well let him in." His tune was drugged but he sounded happy by the news.

Thaddeus nervously explained, "I can't sir, you locked the door, remember?"

The blurry voice continued, "I did? Well you know where the key is." He murmured.

Owen was more than just concerned as he whispered in a hushed voice to Thaddeus. "How long has he been like this?"

He replied in the same volume. "All night, ever since you left,"

Owen nodded as he analyzed the task ahead. "Where's the key?" He whispered in determination.

Thaddeus pointed to one of the paintings.

Reaching for the key hidden behind it; he unlocked the door. Owen was unpleasantly greeted with a waft of cigarette smoke; the warm temperature inside wouldn't help any argument that this room wasn't a Smokery. In the center of the dimly light study was a high back lounge chair, with nothing more than a limp arm hanging from its side.

He walked over to see how long this ham was cooking.

Alan sensed Owen standing next to him, and lifted up his weary hand to grab his.

It wasn't so much of a shake as it was just a reassuring link between friends; he looked down at Alan's drowsy face and gave a quite greeting, "Hey buddy, how are you?"

He gave a lone snicker and tilted his head slightly, but that was only a result of his dazed state. "Not to good, at least that's probably what Thaddeus told you." He teased.

Owen paced ahead slowly, making sure to calmly bring Alan back from his disoriented condition. "What did you do last night?" He inquired calmly.

Alan shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "I got inspiration to work on this painting, but I stopped after I hit an artist's block." He lightly wheezed.

Owen looked to the canvas on the other side of the room and stepped towards it. Thinking this small problem could be easily fixed, he looked at the painting until its view was clear among the dull light. His face went from curious to awe; this was no ordinary painting but a haunting view inside Alan's heart. Before him stood a large face on portrait of Alan himself, but it was only one side of him, the brush strokes from his left faded into the white empty space on the right. Owen gave a heavy sigh as he realized what had happened.

Alan' ranted on from his unaltered sitting position. "To bad I can't finish it."

Owen looked sadly disappointed at Alan but it turned to a reassuring smile, "You'll find the right inspiration to,"

He rubbed his hand against his forehead. "Easier said than done." He groaned.

"Give fate a chance my friend, you ears are more than tuned to it, so when she does came, my only fear is that you'd be _too_ eager." He illuminated.

Alan rolled his head over. "Yeah but it's **when** that bothers me, I've waited twenty-two years,"

A look of playfulness came about Owen. "Yes but did you what thirty-two?"

Alan had no argument and remained silent.

Owen decided enough was enough; and opened the drapes for some much need sunlight; the radiance filled the room quickly.

Alan retreated in his chair and shrieked, "GAHHHH!" My eyes!" He whimpered.

Owen walked brightly over to Alan's withered body, with a bubbly smile he lifted him up out of the chair. "Come on you Vampire, and let's get you some air – smells like a dragon's den in here!"

Alan gave no fight to Owens's strong grip; as his hand was placed on his back and was led outside. Once outdoors he took in a deep breath and choked on the fresh smell's, as if he was a stranger to them.

"Keep doing that and eventfully you'll start looking healthy." Owen quipped as the two started walking down the garden path.

Alan's eyes burned in the mellow light, he could barely see Owen as they began to slowly open. "How bad do I look?" He asked for a very honest reply.

Owen contemplated that question; what looked worse; the black bags under his eyes, the white pasty skin or the mussed over, greasy hair? Or perhaps it was his potent breath that cinched Al's sickly appearance? Either way, Owen gave his answer. "You don't want to know."

Alan agreed as he nudged his head forward, stepping on the gardens smoothed, grey cobble stones. He took in the beauty of his back gardens until his mind was clear again. "I uh, I want to make a confession." He apologetically spoke.

Owen was surprised to hear it. "A confession, what do you mean?"

He bobbed his head low. "I um, I got jealous of you last night. You were talking about how you finally found the woman in your dreams and I, I guess I…" He sighed. "I guess I was wishing the same would happen to me. Anyway I shouldn't," He gestured. "You waited twelve years to find her and I've only been waiting… well, I just want to say that I'm sorry; I'm actually really happy for you." He admitted.

Owen couldn't help but be delighted over Alan's much appreciated humbling. "Why thank you Alan. I can understand your frustration; I was like that myself at your age. But, I am very pleased to hear you say this; it shows that you're willing to wait." Owen reassured. "And that is the first step."

"Yeah I guess." He wheezed. "Why did you come over so early any ways, did Thaddeus call you?"

Owen realized now was the time to explain his presence. "No, as much as Thaddeus cares about your health, that was not my reason for coming. I need to talk to you about something."

He nodded with blurry eyes as he rubbed his strained wrist. "Something wrong?"

Owen sighed again. "Yes and no, I have found that it's vital that I see Serena again and I don't know how, I figured you could help me." He confessed.

Alan nodded in consent while still rubbing his wrist. "Sure what do you need?"

He gave this next idea much thought. "I can't try bumping into her again on our ways to work for I need an opportunity that would give me more time, and since I don't know where she lives, I have to think of some other way to see her."

Alan tried his best to follow.

Owen elaborated. "I heard from her boss that she's going to be at this art show next month, now if I can figure out where that is, perhaps I can meet her there. So since you're the artist; have you heard of any shows?"

Alan just stared at him in dumb-founded shock; he could hardly believe his luck. "Owen, that's the 'Fiennes State Art Show'! I'm going to be showcasing my latest painting there!" He realized in excitement.

"You are?" Owen gaped. "Well are you going to be attending?"

"Usually I don't bother with that stuff, but since no one would knows I'm _'Eduardo Iglesias'_ who happens to have a V.I.P, I can take you there with me!" He offered.

Owen couldn't hold back the joy. "Alan this is great! You don't have to do this though,"

Alan couldn't brush that statement off more. "Think nothing of it; I'd be glad to do this for you" His smile weakened quickly. "Oh wait…"

Owen was brought down when he heard that. "What's wrong?"

"Well…" He muttered in embarrassment. "I sort of 'ruined' the entry I was going to submit, I can't go unless I have one."

"Ruined?" Owen inquired.

"I threw my smock on it while the paint was still wet - on purpose." He nervously confessed.

"Why would you purposely ruin your own painting?"

"Because I don't keep paintings that I hate. It was of that model that attacked me yesterday; I saw no reason to keep it."

Owen rubbed his head in frustration. "Well can't you bring in another model?" He opted.

Alan gave another nervous laugh. "Yeah about that too…"

Owen peered at him. "Yes..?"

"I may have leaked to the media that the famous artist 'Eduardo Iglesias' has ceased bringing in models as of today and for the rest of his life."

Owen tried his best to see hope. "Well can't you just…?"

"It's already on the news." He admitted.

Owen nodded in a dazed spell. "Okay, we can work around that – are you really done bringing in models?"

"After what you said last night I figured, what's the point in painting them? So I called up my agent and told him I'm through."

"Of course." Owen sighed. "Well what are you going to do now? Paint a landscape?"

"No." He mentioned "I'm limited when it comes to that, no It's gotta be a person, someone that I can trust." Alan thought.

"Who then?"

Alan couldn't believe how blind Owen was as he gave him a blank stare, his eyes scrolled down and up his body.

Finally he got the message. "Oh no!" He demanded. "You can't!"

"Why not?" He debated. "You'd be perfect."

"I'm not a model though…"

Alan reached over to him and held Owens's posture straight so he could get a better look. "All you have to do is just stand there - it'll be easy." He pitched.

Owen still wasn't convinced. "Wouldn't someone recognize me in the portrait? "

"Not if I do this right, I got the visual in my head; yeah I can see it already!" He said.

"What does it look like?" He wondered.

Alan raised his knuckle and started feeling his own chin. "I want to draw you in the dreams you keep having, looking up at the angel."

"Alright." He gave. "I'll do it; if that's the angle you're going for I must say it does interest me. But how exactly are you going to pull it off?"

He reassured him by placing his right arm on his shoulder. "I'll think of that later, now I really shouldn't be painting right now since I stayed up all night, so we'll get started later this afternoon."

Owen agreed. "A good idea, I didn't get much sleep either last night."

Alan curiously asked why not.

Owen took in a deep breath, "After I got back home, I went to see Sally,"

"She made you sleep outside?" Al smirked.

"No, on the contrary, we were able to settle our differences and find a healthy middle, well more than just that." Owen paused, he turned to face Alan in a more serious position, and the next words were to be very important. "Alan, we decided to take our relationship to the next level, that night I asked her to marry me and she said yes."

Alan froze in his stance; he stared skeptically at Owen. "You…, you proposed? You want to marry her?"

Owens's smile faded a little as he wondered why Alan's reaction was less than expected. "Yes of course, I figured it was time to, aren't you happy for me?"

Alan still looked shocked and continued awkwardly. "Well I, I just didn't think you two were close enough to get married, it seems awfully early."

Owen tried to make sense of his discomfited talk. "I've been dating here for almost three years, I love her deeply; why shouldn't we marry?"

Alan seemed awfully disappointed as he sighed to Owen, "Well from the way you talk about her she just doesn't seem right for you, then again I never met her."

Owen thought if he should be offended, but instead accepted with humility. "I suppose this is my fault then, I usually come over to let of some steam from our relationship, not when things are going well."

Alan let up, "Look Owen, if you love Sally than I'm happy for you, so if you're smart enough to decide who you want to marry, then I say; go ahead."

The encouragement was uplifting to Owens spirits. "Thanks Alan, I know I couldn't marry someone without your blessing."

He blushed with guilt, "Thanks, but to be honest, I don't really feel like I gave much of a blessing."

"Don't worry about it Alan, it's not like you cursed it." He assured.

After a while, the two had been walking for some time outside, Alan spoke again. "Can I ask you something?" He continued. "Why did you suddenly decide that it's vital you see Serena again?"

"Where do I start with this one? It's a number of things really, after I proposed to Sally, I went up to my room and looked outside, suddenly a stray bullet fired from the alleyway and barely missed my head!"

Alan lunged back in awe. "Whoah! You almost got killed?!"

"Yes the police were searching the place for hours making sure everything was okay, scared Sally that's for sure."

"I can imagine, sounds like a busy night!"

"But that's not my only reason for lack of sleep, which brings me to Serena. That night I got a vivid dream; it was of her again."

Alan smirked as Owen continued.

"This wasn't a nice dream; she seemed pained, and angry. She told me if I didn't come to her now I never will, so with that dream on top of the near miss with death I had, I feel like their connected."

"Like, that bullet was a wakeup call?" Al concluded.

"Exactly so."

"Sounds pretty sever if she's using gun shots to get your attention; I thought you were already planning on finding Serena."

Owen blushed in shame. "Actually, I was wavering from that goal when I missed my second chance of seeing her, she came over while I was gone and told Sally she wouldn't be bringing over the dress. I felt a little foolish chasing after her that I just wanted fate to bring me to Serena."

Alan grimaced. "After all those years of searching, and your reluctant to go after her? Gee Owen I thought you'd be jumping on the case the moment she came in."

Owen couldn't shake off the shame he felt. "I know, I admit, I felt rather disloyal after that dream, but with Sally as my new fiancé and Serena being a complete stranger to me, I thought it prudent to not be so overcome by her."

Alan didn't speak just nodded along, he started dosing of as the walk lingered.

Owen noticed this later. "You're more tired than I thought; why don't you go in and take a nap?"

Alan didn't reply again as his lids started falling. "Hmm? Oh yeah…"

Owen led his friend back inside and watched him wobble up the stairs to his bedroom.

With that, Owen yawned and called up to Alan. "Shall I come back this afternoon?"

Alan replied. "If you're tired why don't you just take a nap here, that why you don't have to bother driving over and back."

He pondered the thought. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Makes no difference to me," He said indifferently. Alan entered his room, shutting the door behind him.

Owen shrugged, deciding to take Alan up on the opportunity and headed for the living room couch. He sat down in the luxurious sofa and laid his head back to rest in the burgundy daybed. It was with a small hint of guilt that he closed his eyes, remembering his promise to Sally, 'Come home as soon as you can', and here he was sleeping at a friend's house, as if trying to run away, thought not his intent, he really did need some rest. His head lay against the pillow; he fell asleep in an instant.

A cushion hit him face on; he woke up with a blurred mind as he tried to assess the assault weapon.

"When I said you could take a nap here; I was referring to one of the guest beds." He teased.

Owen saw Alan standing across from him, holding some sort of canned drink. He moaned under his breath as he tried to sit-up. "Sorry, I didn't know."

Alan sipped his soda as he sat down on a table end with his free hand hanging low. "It's alright; I just didn't think the couch would be as comfy. Sleep well?" He inquired as he took another sip.

Owen slowly rubbed his head feeling the oncoming presence of a headache. "How long was I asleep?"

"Five hours."

Owen scoffed under his breath in amazement. "Five hours?" He wondered as to why he's been feeling so lethargic this past weekend, he never remembered needing sleep so much or maybe he's just never noticed.

"Yeah you must have been pretty tired, I was sure you would've gotten up before me, thought by then you would have raided my fridge and watched the net. "

Owen glared at him. "Really." He retorted.

"That's what I would've done. Now come on we better get started on the painting." He chugged back another bit of his beverage and headed for the art room.

He rubbed his head once more and followed.

The room was circular and filled with empty canvases along the wall; the ceiling spiraled to the top, like a dome. In the center was a three layer staircase made out of giant white, smooth circles.

Owen walked up the pedestal. "So how are we going to do this?"

Alan began searching the room for the right sized canvas, flipping through each one like a collection. "I haven't quite figured that out yet, I was hoping you'd elaborate on your dreams a bit and give me some ideas."

Owen shrugged, "Well they always start with me standing in this empty world." He watched Alan look busily throughout the room; he hoped he was still listening. "Then she appears above, looking down on me."

"What does your face look like?" He asked.

Owen was baffled, "What, my face?"

Al elaborated, "Is it scared, excited, indifferent, what?"

"Oh uh, I'm always over whelmed I'd say, her presence was never understood so I always look eager to hear what she has to say."

"What about this last dream you had?" He inquired again.

Owen had to look back and remember what he felt. "Hmm, I was scared because I didn't know why she was angry. I guess I was more desperate to try and figure out why."

Alan stopped and held a frame to his hip; he nodded in a deep pondering thought. "I think I know how to do this."

"Do tell; I'm in the dark." He opted for an answer.

"Exactly," Alan pointed out as he propped the canvas on the easel.

"Come again?"

Alan readjusted his stance so he Got Owen in a good shot from his angle. "I am going to draw you at a profile shot as you're running towards this light."

He almost chuckled in amusement. "I'm running? How did that come into play?"

"Eh, I figured it'd be fitting. I mean you did say you're desperate to see her right, so you'd be running towards her."

Owen nodded in agreement, quite interested of how Alan came about that answer. "I guess I'll go get the stool then." He trotted over to the chair with good humor. "Since I'm going to be posing like one of your other models; can I call you Mr. Iglesias?"

"No. Please I had enough of that already." He moaned as he started getting his pencils ready.

Owen mocked with a pseudo feminine voice. "Perhaps I should make alluring poses in hopes to win you." He said before laughing heavily.

Alan banged his head against the canvas trying to get the visual out of his head. "No! Just, oh no; don't ever do that again!" He threatened, trying very hard not to cackle along with Owen as he watched him laugh his guts out.

Owens's face was red with cheer. "What would you do?"

"Do you want to look good in the portrait?" He warned light heartedly, trying to get a grip.

Owen halted while a few snorts came out till he finally stopped. "Okay, I'll be good." You could tell he was holding back the snickers with great difficulty.

Alan nodded with a serious face as he began to sketch out the pose.

Only a minute passed when the silence was broken by a lone whisper. "Eddikins…"

Alan banged his head against the canvas once more and gave in with a laughing embarrassment.

This time Owen watched silently as he saw Alan join in on the joke.

"Why do you even remember that one?" He asked among his chuckling.

Owen retaliated. "Hey of all the nicknames I heard them give you, that one was my favorite."

"I really wish I never told you that..." He sighed in remorse.

Owen let out one last amusing laugh then finally all was settled and the two resumed their positions.

Alan raised his hand after a while. "Okay I need you to make a pose of you running; good, now hold that."

Owen felt the strain from the position. "How long do I have to be like this?"

"Until I had my fill of revenge." He said indifferently. Alan got up and walked over to a switch board and activated one of the spot lights over head. "Okay now I will be working on basic shading but I'll need to shine a bit of spotlight on you from an angle."

It shone brightly into Owens's eyes, causing him to squint terribly. "Oh no, that's not blinding at all, is this also part of your revenge?"

"Nah I do this with all my models." Alan said as he skipped back down the steps to his canvas.

Owen rubbed his eyes due to the blinding light. "Look Al, I appreciate you doing this for me, but I don't think I can be your model again after this."

"It's okay; I only paint a lady once." He confessed.

Owen snapped back. "Hey!"

Alan suavely turned to him. "Hey with that pose you made earlier…" He ribbed.

He smiled; all this joking made it hard for Owen to hold a still position.

After some time the sketching was finished and Alan began filling in the warmer shadows. He paid meticulous effort to Owens features as he swiftly made the strokes.

Owen grew slightly bored and hoped for some conversation. "So how long does it usually take you to do a painting?"

"Depends…" He lightly answered.

"On what?" Owen continued.

Alan darted his eyes back and forth between Owen and the canvas. "On the motivation, if I don't feel like it, I won't finish."

Owen considered what that meant. "Which painting took you the longest?"

"The one you saw this morning." He continued with rapid brush strokes.

"But Al, you started that one last night, and it's not even finished."

"You're wrong; that's the first painting I ever started."

Owen didn't reply as he waited for Alan to explain.

"Back when I was in school, my friends started taken up different hobbies, course I didn't have time for that cause I was too busy trying to find a job. And of course you know how my mother and I were getting a difficult time from our land lord to pay the rent early, actually, on time."

"That's when you heard about that painting contest with the twenty-five thousand prize?" Owen asked.

"Yup, but the painting I started, wasn't the one I entered. It was actually the one you saw this morning, but I stopped after the sketch; a self-portrait didn't seem like a good idea. So I tried to paint her instead, to see what I think she looks like. "

Owen felt his beard as he watched Alan's eyes grow sad.

He explained more quietly. "But when I started to do her face I just..." He looked into that memory. "I couldn't do it; she only looked empty."

Owen recalled how Alan described it before. "I remember you saying she had no love in her eyes."

Alan remained silent as he shook his head. "I wanted to redo her but by the time I was done, the contest was almost over, and I had to submit it. Of course, lucky me, some bigot happened to be at the show and despite his two ex-wives and current third one, the lady in the painting looked just like the one from his dreams" He huffed with annoyance. "He only bought it for over a million just so he could show the world how in love he was."

"Despite that huge sale, did win the art contest?" Owen asked.

He shook his head with some excitement. "No, but I got off with the biggest prize; I will never forget the look on her face." Alan whispered happily.

"Your mothers?" Owen smiled.

Alan looked up as if shocked by Owens reply, his smile faded and he resumed painting. "No someone else's."

"Who's? I thought no else but your mother knew you made that painting?" Owen inquired.

Alan hid his emotions and continued indifferently. "No, the middle man who sold the painting on my behalf knew I made it, she was my art teacher Miss Brie; she made friends with my mom a few years prior and heard about my talent through her; she told me about the art contest and offered me the schools art supplies to make an entry,"

"So she knows your Eduardo Iglesias?" Owen asked.

Alan replied with sorrow. "She did, she promised never to tell anyone and she took that promise all the way to her grave, she never told me about her dieses, but she let me know that helping me was her greatest goal as an art teacher."

Owen was knocked back with those words and remained absolutely silent as Alan continued.

He chuckled with heavy breath, "When I was sixteen, I did a drawing of my mom with some stray chalk I found; she was so proud of it that when Miss Brie first came over to visit, she showed it to her. Miss Brie later told me that she was so amazed with the picture, that she hoped to one day help me with my skills." Alan rubbed his nose in a subtle move, trying to hide his emotions. "I never really realized how much though." He stopped talking and resumed the painting.

Owen was deep in thought; he didn't know about this and figured why Alan never told him. "I'm sorry,"

Alan shrugged and sighed heavily while he continued. "Don't be, she died happy, she helped me get to where I am now, and I have no idea what I'm doing…" Alan stopped painting and rubbed his head in anxiousness, he let his emotions get the better of him as he lowered his head in grief. "She didn't have to die…" He whispered as he rubbed his sweated brow; he pulled out a white stick and placed it in his mouth, he started taping his pocket as he searched his body frantically for an item, till he noticed Owen standing in front of him.

He had gotten up from his stool while Alan was busy reminiscing on those painful memories, to offer him his lighter.

With a slightly embarrassed look, he sheepishly took the gift. "Thanks." He whispered. He lit the cigarette and after one puff, calmed down. "You know after this morning I'm surprised you're giving me this." He handed the lighter back to Owen.

Owen leaned his arm against the canvas. "I know but still, you needed to calm down and cigarettes are just your way of doing it, just don't go overboard this time," He lightly warned.

He smiled at the thought in gratitude. "I'll make this my only one."

"Good, because I think you've maxed your limit for the rest of the week." He chuckled.

"I only had...well; yeah I guess you're right." He admitted.

He took it lightly. "I don't want to know the answer." Owen walked behind Al. "So how's it coming along?" He gazed in amazement at that outlines already drawn. "I like it."

Alan tilted his head back in curiosity, "What? I barely started."

"It still looks good." He reassured.

Alan just played along. "Okay if you insist - I plan on making the background black does that sound right?"

Owen agreed. "Yes it's always black in the dreams. What's that?" He pointed to the face in the painting.

"Wrinkles, by highlighting them, it showcases pain." He enlightened.

"Pain? So I'm going to look pained but hopeful?"

"Isn't that how you are in your dreams?" He asked.

Owen nodded. "Yes actually, I'm just surprised with how accurate you're getting it."

"I can relate." Alan concluded.

Owen smiled and looked at his cigarette. "I have no doubt about that."

"Okay come on." Alan gestured with his hand. "Show's over," As he motioned Owen to go back to the seat.

Owen politely walked back to the stool but not before asking a question. "Everything alright then?"

The cigarette bobbed in his mouth while he spoke. "Yeah I'll be fine."

The two continued working; hours passed.

The portrait had evolved from its former white square to a light filled master piece, much of the detailed shading needed to be completed but for now, much had been done, form the basic skin tone to the base of the hair, to the almost finished background. After the work was done for the day, the two sat down in front of it, laid back on the floor with what looked like three empty drink cans next to them and a tray still potent with the fragrance of a delicious meal. They were reclined, relaxed and quite proud of the work they had completed.

"You know," Alan said as he took one last bit of his meal. "Of all my models, you probably were the best one."

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah, most of them don't sit so patiently like that; and you've never did anything like this before?" He wondered.

Owen thought for a moment and spoke. "There was one time back in my teenager years. A traveling guru had stopped in our town, looking for patrons, eager to hear his wisdom, to offer him food and drink in return. He was unlike any creature I've seen before, short, green and wrinkly. I was fascinated by his knowledge that I begged my parents to please let him stay with us. In return he taught me how to meditate, staying in uncomfortable positions for long hours without moving, he even showed me how to do it upside down while hanging from the ceiling boards. from what I remember; during that practice he told me to hold that position for two hours then fell asleep on my bed, ate most of our food too. I don't even think he called by name, he kept calling me 'gill', Owen started to second guess the fondness of that memory.

"Of course he wasn't referring to 'gill' as in gullible right?" Alan added.

Owen considered the thought as he began realizing just how eager he was in his youth. "You know he really did fall asleep during most of our lessons."

Alan nodded. "He probably just took advantage of what little sleep he could get, I'm sure he taught you a lot of important stuff, while snoring." The statement was filled sarcasm.

"Well I did learn from him, though I'm sure he wasn't starving when he left. He was the one that taught me the importance of abstinence actually."

Alan snickered. "He did?"

"There was something that Guru said that stuck in my head. He said our bodies are temples that should be treated with sacredness. All of my friends laughed at him for saying that and left, but I guess I felt special for staying, like I was the only one who understood what he meant."

"And in return he called you 'gill?" He replied with wryer.

Owen did not get offended and actually agreed with the Guru, "Well I was a naive then, I had a lot to learn; still, I did listen to his teachings."

Alan became curious, "What was it about his statement that made you want to stay and listen?"

"Well this was back when I was seventeen, practically everyone at my school was in some relationship or another and since there wasn't much to do out in my rural area, you can imagine what sort of folly took place. I was called a loser for not taking part in it but what turned me off was all the chaos that occurred afterwards."

"Chaos?" Alan asked.

"You know, 'How could you do this to me?' 'I thought you loved me?' 'Why did I see you with her,' 'What did you do with him?' All that nonsense, it made my head spin, so when the Guru came, his teachings made sense, they were like, conformations to what I already felt; helped me understand a lot that's for sure."

Alan nodded; he was a quite fascinated by that story. "I can see why you follow it then; will you always practice this even after marriage?"

He beamed with lighthearted laughter and shook his head at the question. "No, of course not, its whole purpose Al is to not violate another woman unless I am man enough to make her my wife."

His words were fatherly and it struck Alan. Caught off guard he tilted his head back, gave Owen a confused look but as he thought about it, he began to see what he meant, without saying a word he smiled gently to himself and nodded. Al then sat back and began to relax.

Owen stayed silent too as he enjoyed his comfortable sitting position and for the longest while they both didn't speak; instead they enjoyed the painting in its nearing of completion, thinking of how stunning the detail looked already.

"Admiring your work?" Owen joked.

He replied, "While I don't do this too often anyway, it's a nice painting of you; hey too bad Sally can't see it huh?" He thought.

Owen was almost going to nod until his face turned to panic stricken horror. "What time is it?" He whispered.

Alan guessed the reason behind Owens worry and read the clock. "It's almost nine."

A huge smack hit Owens's forehead. "I have to go! I promised Sally a romantic date tonight and I'm past late! She is going to be furious!"

Alan seered air through his teeth and started running alongside Owen, "Wait I got an Idea! You might still be able to save your rear from being roasted."

"What?" Owen panted.

"Listen closely…"

Sally waited at her desk smacking each paper with an ink stamp; her attitude was less than cheerful as her anger echoed throughout the hall. Her scowling face and lowered brow made her quite unapproachable. Her attention was caught by the headlights shining outside the doors window, someone had just pulled up outside, she got up and stomped to the door, her look alone was threatening as she opened it. But what she saw was not what she expected.

Outside the doorway was a black hover limo, in front of it was Owen, dressed in a deep blue tux and holding a bundle of purple Hyacinth's.

"I am so sorry for being late Sally, forgive me?" He pleaded with guilt as he carefully held the bundle.

She tried very hard to hold back the tears as she raised her palm to her eyes. "You old suck where were you?" She whimpered.

Owen walked up to her and held her close. "I lost track of time, I am very sorry. Quick, get into your best dress, were head for "Eli's."

"Owen, I, I can't It's too late." She cried.

"No it's not, we have all night. " He pleaded hopefully.

"But a limo? I'm not even showered…" She begged again.

Owen motioned to the driver to wait and took Sally inside. "Dear, is there more going on here?"

Her response was aggravated. "Owen you really surprised me, you didn't even call, and you were gone for hours! Then you show up in a limo? Owen, how do you expect me to take this?"

"Easily, Sally all of this is for you, there's nothing stopping us from having a memorable night together."

"You didn't have to do all this." She argued lightly.

Owen pulled her in. "You deserve it, you're my fiancé."

She took the flowers and his arm and smiled sheepishly. "I want to be angry with you so much, but I don't know whether to yell or cry." She joked in tears.

"Well on the way the way there you can yell at me all you like." He teased.

She smirked sadly and held him in for a hug as she was lead to her room to change.

That evening was unlike any Sally ever experienced, the atmosphere, the food, the high - class crowd. She fidgeted in her seat as she looked around; her dress was quite simple among the neighbors. "So why did you settle for this place?" She teased.

Owen paused from eating and placed down his fork. "I thought this place would be fitting for a romantic date."

"I can't help but get the feeling that people are staring at me." She whispered in nervousness.

"Only because you look so beautiful." He concurred as he took a sip from his glass.

"Thanks for the encouragement, but I don't think this place favors those from my level."

"Level?" He wondered.

"You know; people who aren't rich enough to buy a ship each day and crash it." She joked.

Owen cleared his throat. "It's all in your head Sally, you have every right to be her as they do. So don't put yourself on a level lower than them." He gently ordered.

"I know Owen, I shouldn't but I…, I just don't really belong here." She confessed.

Owen threw back that statement with no hesitation. "What do you mean 'belong here'?"

"Owen, this place is very rich, I'm not complaining but you must admit, I don't fit in with this type of crowd." She confessed.

"It's not about the crowd; it's about you and me tonight. If you don't like the people here then just ignore them, don't let them spoil our evening." He said with a soft mellow whisper.

She rested her chin in her hand and spoke with sarcasm. "If they just stop staring I might be able too."

Owen shook his head as he ate his meal. "No one's staring at you dear."

"Oh, so much for looking so beautiful." She teased in reference to his first statement.

Owen gave a mournful, sorry look. "Can we please just enjoy ourselves?"

"Okay, okay." She pleaded quietly. "I'm not trying to spoil it."

Owen gave her a look and sighed as he resumed his meal.

"Are you going to do that all night?" She asked as she smiled at him.

"Do what?" He queried.

Sally imitated his sigh and looked at him with a childish smile.

He snickered. "Have I been doing that lot's?"

"A little," She described with a cocked head.

"Sorry, am I spoiling the evening?" He questioned while cleaning his chin with his napkin.

"It makes me want to ask what the matter is." Sally admitted with a cocky expression.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, feeling her toes nudge his. "I guess I've been a little upset with myself,"

"Why should you be?" She asked more seriously.

He slouched slightly. "All I wanted was an enjoyable evening, but not only was I late, but you're unhappy with my restaurant choice."

She quickly defended herself. "I'm not unhappy with it! I was just commenting on the crowd that's all. I'm fine with the restaurant." She assured him.

Owen didn't seem all that convinced. "What about the remarks of how you don't belong here?"

She waved it off. "I was pointing out the truth, but I am still enjoying myself cause I'm with you."

He gave up. "You're a wonder to me Sally. Well, at least now I know you're happy." He cheered calmly.

"I think it's silly that you didn't know that." She ribbed as she gave him another nudge with her foot.

He smirked. "Silly me,"

The beat of music echoed from the other room. Cut off by the large archways, was the dance floor easily accessible to the dining patrons. Owen seemed captivated by the whimsical sound that he offered his hand to Sally's.

"Shall we dance?" He said romantically.

She looked back at him with surprise. "What?"

"A simple go around the floor?"

She scoffed in disbelief and snickered. "Owen, since when did you know how to dance?"

He smiled back with a cheeky look. "I learned how to back in college, I've always enjoyed it."

"Well I wish you would have told me sooner so I could reply with, 'I know nothing about dancing!" She retorted.

He urged her slightly. "I can show you if you like, a simple box step would do." He guaranteed.

She still shook her head. "No way Owen, you're on your own, and since I'm not going to let you dance with anyone else, you might as well just stay here." She smugly explained.

He motioned defeat as he smiled with pleasure. "I guess we'll just have to teach you later then."

She shook her head fiercely with pride. "No, I do not want to learn! Dancing is not my thing."

"Well what's wrong with it?" He asked.

"I hate the idea of spending long hours, doing something so tedious; I'd look like an idiot."

He didn't quite know how to asses that statement as he thought sadly. "You might like it."

"It's just not for me." She explained sincerely, taking a bite of her meal. "I'm sorry I can't be your partner Owen but you don't have to dance do you?" She looked at him for conformation to her question.

Owen seemed a little distracted by the twirling partners in the distance, he gazed reverted back to her. "No I don't need to; it's been years anyway."

"You see?" She smiled assumingly. "You probably wouldn't even remember the way to do it."

Owen made a quick explaining remark between bites. "It's like riding a bike, you never forget." He then returned to eating.

Sally was a little unsure by that statement and gave an odd look. "I'm sure…"

The two continued out the evening with small talk and jokes, it wasn't until the end of the date that Owen offered a toast to their future marriage, after that the clock read one and they went home. He made sure to tuck Sally to bed in her tipsy state and the night ended for them both as he retired to his room.

Owen lay on his couch and picked up his phone, 'Five missed call's' it read. Must have been Sally he thought. Had he brought his phone with him earlier, he would have been reminded of their date and rushed home, but if he had done that, then the painting also wouldn't have been so close to completion. He thought about the painting being his ticket to see Serena again, that is, if the plan worked; his head throbbed at the idea of it failing and he knew he needed to take some sleeping pills and pain killers to get past it. After he took them quickly and placed on some sleeping attire, Owen still refused to go to bed.

The night sounds of the street came from outside, the same sirens in the distance and animals growling in the alleys.

Owen sat at his kitchen's counter; it seemed sleep was both a necessity and a nightmare. He didn't want to get a bad dream telling him his chance at destiny was ruined; if the last dream he had was a warning would the next one say his chance was lost? "This is silly." He mulled, "I'm afraid of sleeping? I am already working on a way to see her again but…is that enough?" He looked with guilt at the window's drapes and took in a deep breath, "Serena? I don't know who you are but you have my undying word that I will do whatever it takes to see you again, even if it means postponing my marriage, I will come to you." With that said, he had got up from his seat as a new man. Filled with courage and determination, he was ready to face sleep tonight and anticipate whatever dreams he may get from her, whether good or bad, keeping his promise close to heart was the important thing. His head lay softly on the comforting pillow; he had a smile on and whispered under drowsy eyes. "I will come to you…I promise…" Owen went into a deep sleep.

The breeze gently blew through the window drapes.


	4. The Art Show: Ch4

The sun was quickly setting down for the day; Owen had gotten on his best attire, a special tuxedo Alan loaned him. It's soft, tan fabric was much richer than what Owen could afford. Thinking to himself that he must repay Alan for the loan; he exited his room to go outside.

Tonight was the night of the art show; he hadn't had one dream of her this month; perhaps that meant she was waiting for him? For now, tonight would only be unnerving until he could see for himself if Serena was there.

Outside the steps was Alan with his Chaser; a 9-20 Viser-lux convertible. One would not guess that he built such a recent model himself.

Owen took one look at the silver formal tux Alan wore. "Why so dressed-up?" He wondered.

"This is my casual suit; come on let's go." Alan grabbed hold of the Chasers door and didn't bother opening, instead he leaped over, setting himself right in front of the wheel.

Owen didn't bother mimicking and gently opened the door to set himself inside properly and placed on his seatbelt.

Alan rolled his eyes and pulled forward the ignition.

The vehicle's engines ignited as it hovered up, pulled out and took off down the road; Alan always enjoyed this part, much to Owens dismay.

His hair blew rapidly in the wind. "Must you drive so fast?" He yelled.

Alan's eyes were set to the road ahead and did not deter. "You want to get there don't you?" He shouted back.

"I was just thinking a speeding ticket would only delay us!"

Alan snickered, "You worry too much." He suddenly sped faster.

The tall, luminescent buildings whizzed by due to their accelerated speed on the freeway.

"When we arrive, stay close to me, I have a special plan!" Al instructed.

"For wat?"

"You'll see."

The speeding chaser finally stopped outside the grand hall, its steps led up to a dome that shined its own self importance, the spotlights flickered about as its beams reached the sky. Many could tell this was a fancy event but Al gave no awe as he trotted up the way.

He stopped Owen. "Hold on, do you see that old man over there, with the lady in the red dress?"

Owen looked at the man with no particular interest. "Yes why?"

"That's Effron Dominic, he's the tycoon of the Ewel fortune; now watch." Alan whispered in a smug attitude.

Owen oddly observed Al walk up to the old man, perturbed out by his strange behavior.

With open arms Alan greeted the man. "Why sir Dominic of Devin, it is an honor to see you here tonight!" Alan grabbed his hand without invite and shook it vigorously.

He was confused, "Wot; who are you?"

"My name is Alan, I am a huge fan of you sir, an apprentice I wish; how you made all that money from the Ewels to sell and export their goldium, what a feat; I have always been curious to hear how you did it." He gibbered on and on.

He chuffed in a smoky voice. "You actually like my work? 'Bout time! I've been called a beast for my genius, by those arrogant humanitarians!" He snarled.

He dryly shook his head. "How rude of some people, they just don't appreciate your tactics do they?"

The man boasted under the flattery. "Those Ewels had no use of goldium as you know, my exporting it gave them work, I was their saviour not their crucifier!"

The lady companion stepped forward. "Dear, this man seems to appreciate your efforts; perhaps you were to share it with him?"

"Oh yes sir." Alan included. "I would love to hear it from you!"

He brazenly chuffed under his white mustache. "Well then I don't see why not, why don't you come inside with us and I can tell you all about it?" He was eager since Alan was the only person that showed any interest in his work.

"I would be honored, thank you so much Sir Dominic." He started walking along side them to the entrance. When they got to the gate Alan turned around to stop them. "Please allow me."

The man nodded. "Oh, alright." He handed Alan his pass to give to the gateman.

but when Alan grabbed the pass, he fumbled and it fell to the ground; he bent down to pick it up and handed it to the guard.

The worker scanned the pass, looked closely at the monitor on screen and gave a sly nod as he let the three in.

"There now, let us go. Come, I shall tell you how I first discovered the goldium during one of my expeditions." Sir Dominic offered.

"That would be great sir." Alan followed Dominic inside but among the crowds he quickly slipped away and walked straight back out again, though Dominic did not have time to notice this for the moment Al left, three security men dressed in black approached sir Dominic.

The intimidating guards surrounding the man. "Sir, you have to come with us."

"Wot! Wot is this? Wot are you doing?" He cried. "See here, I am Sir Dominic and I will not be treated in this way. Get your filthy hands off of me you blackgerd or I shall see you are sued for everything you're worth, where are you taking me?"

"Dominic?" His lady cried out in terror.

The guards encircled them both and lead them away to an ominous dark door. The room was soon eerily silent of the affair.

Alan ran outside and went back down the steps towards Owen

Owen slyly looked at him. "What was that all about?" He wondered.

"I switched passes so I used my V.I.P to get him in." Alan whispered back. "Of course my suspicions were correct; it was bugged. Who ever used it would have been carded as Eduardo Iglesias." He gave a wink and a smile as he placed Dominic's V.I.P back into his shirt.

"So you tricked them into letting you in, just so you could get their pass - and then use that pass to let me in with you?" Owen elaborated.

Alan smiled at his own cleverness.

"How come you just didn't let me go in with you when you talked to Domininc? That way we both would have gotten in."

Alan paused, "This way is cooler?"

Owen only smiled as walked with Alan towards the gate. "So what will happen to Dominic now that they think he's you?"

He shrugged. "Probably taken to a dark room, where a guy will try and interrogate him."

Owen was concerned as he looked at Alan. "They're that desperate to discover your identity? I'm surprised you even came given the risks."

But he only laughed. "Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how easy it is to out-smart these guys?"

"But suppose they find out that you came in with Dominic and suddenly disappeared? Suppose they figure out that he's not Eduardo and start searching for you?"

"Trust me," He said. "It won't be for awhile until they figure that out. We'll be fine."

Owen grimaced. "I don't know Al, I wouldn't want you to get caught."

"I won't and even if I was, I'm sure you can get me out of it."

"You and your bright ideas."

Alan faced him. "Okay remember what we came here for?"

"How could I forget? You seem more eager about it, than me!" He joined in with Alan on their search of the building.

An hour passed.

The two hurried about in the hallways trying to find Serena, rushing past guests at one moment or looking through crowds the next, up and down the whole exhibits they went.

"Find her yet?" Al slowly panted.

He sighed in defeat. "No, perhaps she's not here?"

Alan nudged him on the shoulders. "Hey don't think like that, I know she's here; you just gotta find her that's all."

He only shrugged. "Alan I don't know that for sure, this might not even be the place."

"This is the only art show in the whole city; of course it's the one."

"Alright then we'll keep looking. Where haven't we checked yet?"

Alan grimaced. "Well there is one exhibit."

His face seemed all too worried by the thought. "Oh, that one, I _really_ don't think she'd be in there."

He continued urging him. "It's the only place we haven't checked."

"Yes I know, but really Al, artistic nude? Why would she be in there?" he whined.

"Hey there could be a number of reasons, besides it's the only place you haven't checked, either that or the Ladies Bathroom."

"I'm almost tempted to check that instead!"

"We can if you want."

He knew he wasn't kidding and raised his hands in defense. "No! Alright, I'll go check out the exhibit myself, you wait out here; it'll make it less awkward."

"I'll look around some more while you do that," Alan replied.

After a hefty sigh he went in.

The exhibit was not that comfortable as Owen walked past dozens of artistic interpretations of alien bodies in explicit poses. Disgusted and embarrassed, he blushed as he walked past the ladies and sirs. He decided that Serena was nowhere to be found in this wretched exhibit and turned away.

But just when he was about to depart, he saw a familiar face; there trapped inside a large crowd and unable to get free was, Serena! He was instantly over taken with joy.

_There she was!_

She was accompanied by her boyfriend Mr. Stone, who was busy making a speech to his posse. She appeared to be uncomfortable in the exhibit, for obvious reasons; that and her boyfriend Mister boaster, Owen thought.

He was happy to finally see her but getting Serena out of the crowd, would have to be his next move. No one was paying her any attention, all she needed was a reason to leave, but what? Owen inhaled a large breath, thought of a plan and stepped towards Mr. Stone.

Stone took a while to notice Owen but when he did, he wasn't pleased. "Mr. Kensington? What in the blazes are you doing here?" He loudly announced.

Serena perked her lowered head, for the name sounded familiar. Her attention was suddenly fixed on him.

"Hello Mr. Stone, I thought I recognized you," He greeted.

He cruelly laughed. "Did you come for some help on that project I assigned you?"

He ignored the patronizing comment. "Uh, actually no, I came over because of Miss Serena here. How have you been Serena? It's been a while." He gestured his hand to her. Owen waited patiently in hopes she would play along.

Her eye's tightened, she gave him an inquisitive look.

Owen replied with a wink and her suddenly her expression changed to an Ah-ha moment. "Of course!" She exclaimed. "Owen, it is good to see you again, how've you been?"

He shook her hand. "I've been doing quite well since last we met, how has life been treating you or have people still been trying to rob you blind?" He chuckled.

"They try but I can handle them; tell me, what brings you to this particularly fine exhibit, are you in the dark about some things?"

He smirked. "No I'm afraid I lack the acquired taste to enjoy this place. I saw you here and decided to come in, I was planning on going to the floral exhibit next."

"I haven't been to that exhibit yet." She cunningly thought.

"Well then, may I be the one to take you there? I would say it has things this exhibit needs more of."

A lady in the crowd asked a loud what that might be. "Colour?"

"Censorship."

Serena smirked knowingly from his cute joke and turned back to her boyfriend. "Preston dear this is Owen, a friend of mine, do you mind if I go with him?"

Preston huffed under his breath. "But I was just about to share with our friends the time you and I went to Rathens last fall." He uttered loudly.

She flicked her hands. "Go right ahead, and then I'll come back and tell them what really happened, darling."

Everybody in the crowd giggled at the joke as she turned to walk away.

Preston eye's narrowed and a hot huff from his nose released as he watched Owen walk off with Serena; his suspicions calmed down enough, so he could resume to his boasting.

As they walked side by side, Serena started to speak again in a more relaxed and softer tone. "I can't thank you enough for what you just did."

Owen smiled kindly. "Well when I saw how distressed you were I thought I should give you a hand."

"Then I thank your intuitiveness and kindness both; I owe you one Owen."

"Consider it my way of paying you for the stained dress. I'm just glad you played along back there." He said.

She replied with cheer. "Yes well when I saw your wink I realized what was happening." Her tone changed. "Owen?"

He paused to look at her.

She spoke in a mellow voice, "It really is good to see you again."

"I say the same."

They finally walked out of the exhibit and Serena took a breath of fresh air as she relaxed her shoulders. "That's much better."

"I'm so sorry; I was only in there for a minute and I can understand what you felt."

"It's not like I don't see the body as an art form, but that exhibit was hardly honorable in the way it was portrayed.; it was exploited." She raised her weary hand to her brow, her tone changed to something more serious as she folded her arms, "And I don't appreciate being forced in there against my will."

Owen gave a sympathetic stare until Serena spoke again

"You must have remarkable vision if you saw me from all the way out here." She wondered.

Owen blushed. "Actually, the truth is, I was looking for you. I heard from my boss that you might be here, so I hoped to find you by coming."

Serena gave him a mistrustful glare. "You were looking for me? That's awfully bold of you."

He realized that perhaps that wasn't the best thing for him to say. "Well yes, but I meant no harm I assure you."

She confronted him. "Did you really come all the way here, just to see me?"

He backed away slightly. "Yes, I thought you and I should be more properly introduced." He uttered. Owen was getting nervous; maybe he should have thought this through more. "I don't mean to offended you, I just very much want to make your acquaintance."

She eyed him with suspicion. "Why? You hardly know me, why would you go through all this effort, just to see me?"

He sighed, took in a deep breath and spoke in the sincerest voice, hoping to convince her of his nobility. "I can't really explain or tell you why I felt compelled to seek you out; all I can say is, you left an impression on me."

Serena was moved by his words, she had no idea how to reply. With a humble smile, she steadily approached him. "So you just want to make friend's, that's all you came out here for?"

Owen nodded quietly.

"Well I think they're may have been easier ways for you to see me, but given the strong protection of my boyfriend, perhaps not. I am flattered by your determination Owen, I think you should at least be rewarded for your valiant efforts, and I do owe one don't I." She smirked.

He was delighted by her words, thankful to know he didn't completely screw up. Now to discover why she has been the goal of his quest, for he was beginning to question it himself. "I appreciate you're understanding."

"Well, you are the most polite stalker I've ever met." Serena grinned as she gave him her arm. "Do you still want to take me to the floral exhibit?"

He smiled gently and took her arm into his. "If you'd permit me?"

"You have my arm, but remember you're on parole, do anything forward and Preston will here of it." Despite the lightheartedness in her voice, Owen took it very seriously.

"You have my word."

Alan had been, for some time, scrolling around the halls; he stopped searching the moment he realized he had no idea what Serena looked like. So he decided to take the opportunity to go see his own painting hanging on display. Unfortunately though, there was a huge crowd in front of it, listening to a tour guide. For amusement's sake, he listened in, thinking of how off their interpretations of the paintings meaning were. He stood in the back of the crowd, as he listened to the female speaker.

The young lady pointed with her stick, at various detailed points in the painting, making long instructive speeches of the painter's use of colours and tools.

He sighed from his disinterest, his eyes wandered about the room to pass time; a painting that was truly bizarre, a man with poor fashion sense, a broken ceiling that tile missed inspection, the guide. The guide just stood there, but the pull he felt was more than just an admiration of her beauty, this was something deeper, it was almost spiritual, maybe it even was. She captured his eye's without even trying, suddenly something inside of him burst. Like when two Neutron star's swing about each other in a chaotic spin of flames and fury, going faster and faster after each spin then finally, they collide. A huge ray burst's from the impact and an explosion sounds, causing the worlds to shake violently. The dance is done, silence returns, and peace is restored.

"Can you tell me why?"

He was awakened by the sudden sound of her voice, directed at him. She had been speaking to him this whole time asking a question he wasn't paying attention to, his heart slowed down enough for him to ask what was the question.

She pointed at the painting with her stick and asked him again. "This painting is the mark of Iglesias's new era, he has stopped painting females and has moved on to an entirely new subject; I'm asking everyone why they think that is, what do you think?"

Alan looked at her and let in some air before he made his reply. "Yes I can, he's tired of the emptiness that comes in each model he brings in, they show no love or compassion for who he is as a person, only see him as a fortune. So he cut his ties with the world in he hopes he may someday find the one that will love him in return for who he is and not as a famous artist." His tone ran smooth and he focused in on her, "He's lonely in that big house of his; he sits there each day in dim rooms, lacking purpose, wasting his life, just waiting for her to return." His speech silenced the entire crowd, it was so quiet that only his breathing could be heard.

The guide just stared at him awkwardly; she resumed her job's requirements by taking back hold of the situation. "That's quite beautifully put Sir; each artist can leave their own impressions on us and what makes Mr. Iglesias so fascinating, is that any one of us can put themselves in his shoes because so little is known about him."

"Yes but why would I want to be him, I'd much rather be myself." Alan spoke.

The guide tried to hide her irritation of his obscuring the tour. "Yes I suppose so; to each his own then."

No, he wasn't going to let her end this. "What do you think of the painting?" He asked.

"Well, I think it's a marvelous piece of work…."

"And it's meaning?"

She couldn't believe the nerve of his asking as her tour guide smile hid her growing frustration. "Well I think it means pain of not being able to touch what you see right before you."

Alan lifted his hand. "That's exactly what it means, when destiny brings it to us, we should run to it at full speed," He awaited for her much loved response.

"That is an interesting take on it, maybe not fitting for every scenario." She hummed through clenched teeth; she was ready to call security.

"Perhaps we have a lot in common then,"

Beginning to see where this guy was heading; she clicked the ear piece on her head. "We got a pest." She quietly whispered. "That is quite the claim sir, but hardly appropriate here."

Alan grew concerned by the whisper he couldn't make out and tried again to convince her of his honorable goal. "Maybe I could hear more from you?"

"If you let me speak you might be able too." She argued.

He was going to talk again until he felt a guard behind him; Alan panicked, thinking they were on to him, only to be relieved when he was just let out of the crowd.

"Go near her again and you're off the premises!" The guard warned.

Alan was still a little shaken by the encounter. "Right, won't happen again, don't worry sir." With a worried glare he watched the guard walk off, he regained peace by looking at the guide.

She saw him in the distance.

He waved back.

She callously looked away and resumed her job.

Not letting that detour him from his long sought after goal, he waited away from the distance, keeping a close eye on her like a love sick teenager.

They walked to the floral exhibit. It was a marvelous large room, near empty aside from them. Its roof seemed higher than all the others and the gentle light from above, felt like sunlight in a green house. They passed the pillars in the room, containing the luscious floral paintings. It was a kind of shrine, to nature.

"This is remarkable." Serena marveled.

"They are exquisite, and thanks to one of my first jobs; I'm familiar with the name of each one."

She looked at him, impressively. "You were a botanist's?"

"Florist's assistant, back when I was younger. In my early twenties, I took up many small jobs before a larger career."

"What sort of career did you want?"

He thought of it for a second. "Well I had one in mind but it didn't work out so I later took on jobs where I could be of aid to people."

She thought his response was refreshing. "Did you find a nice career then?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it nice; I took up a job at Improve-Co."

She reflected on those words. "That's where Preston works, so that's how you know him; you must work very high up then."

"High up?" He laughed at the thought. "No I'm just a simple engineer."

"Oh," Serena was puzzled. "I'm sorry, I was misinformed about something."

He was a little flustered. "I'm sorry; I hope I didn't disappoint you."

"Oh no, no, no this has nothing to do with you Owen, your job is fine." She altered her expression for just a second, "It's something else." then reverted back to the conversation.

"I hope it's nothing serious."

She wanted to change the subject and quickly. "Just something I'll take care of later. Anyway, tell me; what's your work like?"

His tone went dull as he prepped for the usual Job description. "I research potential drafts then come up with the products final design, though I can't really say much else."

"Confidential?" Serena asked.

"Oh no," Owen quickly responed. "That's really all I do."

"What sort of things do you design?"

"Multiple things; mostly products that enhance beauty; my whole goal is to design things for people who are told to not be happy with how they look." Owen muttered.

"Why don't you just quit?"

Owen was shocked. "Quit, why?"

"Because from the way you make it sound, you're not doing anything meaningful, doesn't that bother you?"

Owen was amazed by her forthcoming words. "Well yes it bothers me, but I need something to pay the bills."

She flicked her eyes. "But you said you wanted a job that will let you help people, why do you stick with Improv-co if it does nothing like that?" She argued back.

Owen felt guilty when he heard that, he nudged away the accusation and argued. "As much as I may not _agree_ with my job, I wouldn't want to leave it, unless I had something solid to fall back on."

Serena just sighed by his stubbornness, then fell silent.

Now feeling awkward, Owen tried to remedy the situation. "But I think you have a point Serena, I've been working there for so long that I guess I have become a little numb to it, one day I hope to leave."

She humbly smiled. "It's alright Owen, I'm sorry if I stepped out of line, I just hate seeing someone settle for something that's pointless when there's something greater in front of them."

Amused, he looked at her. "Something greater; what do you mean?"

She gazed at him in all seriousness. "Do you not think you have a great destiny?"

He continued. "I'm sure I do, I just don't know what it is. I have been thinking that it's a career but I can't think of any that are fitting."

She didn't respond at all, but gave him a sly look of annoyance.

Owen could clearly tell she wasn't happy and wanted an explanation. "What?"

She gave him the look again but made it more lighthearted.

Realizing he wasn't going to get an explanation, he sighed in defeat.

After a while she spoke up again. "Owen, you mentioned earlier there was a career you wanted but couldn't obtain?"

He lifted his head and shook it fiercely. "hmm, oh! Oh no I could never take up that job."

She was interested by his bashfulness and urged him to continue. "What was it then?"

For some reason he trusted her enough too confided in her a very personal memory. "Well, I hoped and trained, to be a professional dancer."

She was astonished. "What?"

His smile was bright and rosy. "I was very talented at it, I took many classes most of my young life. Ballroom, Tap, don't laugh but I even learned some Ballet."

She couldn't help herself; she let a startling, robust laugh. Her eyes teared on rosy cheeks. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed; Oh dear I just think that's very interesting. Why in heavens name did you stop?"

His smile faded as he opened the painful truths. "Well first of all, entertaining through dance, doesn't seem very helpful."

She pulled her hair back as her smile continued to glow. "Why not? You could be an inspiration too many; who said you had to design people products in order to be helpful? You'd be making people happy."

"Well I certainly got a chuckle out of you." He teased.

She blushed nervously. "I'm sorry; I really don't know what came over me back there." She eyed his classy tuxedo. "I guess I never thought you'd be the type to dance Ballet."

He laughed. "Me neither, but ballet helps the body maintain balance while dancing, it helped me through many classes."

She studied him closely with a hint of sadness. "What was the other reason you stopped then?"

He frowned, "Most of my lessons were back on my home world; after I came here I still took lessons for about two years but had to stop. They were expensive and I needed to start thinking of a more solid career to earn money." He spoke mournfully, realizing this was something he lost back with Iagan on Gaelaga. "I haven't found anyone to dance Ballroom with, and Tap-dancing is pointless unless it's your job."

She sensed his pain. "So in other words, reality caught up with you?"

He silently nodded and continued. "It's alright, I changed greatly since the boy I was on my home world, and I don't know how I could take up a job as a dancer without feeling silly."

"You learned it for most of your life; you must have some love for it." She argued.

He retaliated gravely "I do, but as I said before, I changed."

She seemed indifferent as she shrugged one of her shoulders. "Too bad, because I happen to love Tap-dancing."

"Wat?"

"I always thought it was entertaining. It seems like a lot of fun, I even wanted to learn it myself when I was a young girl."

"Why didn't you?" He asked.

"It wasn't available for me to learn, I had other things to study. Besides, unless I _truly_ had a passion for it, I would have stopped after a month or so."

Owen got the message loud and clear.

"Did you learn the Fox trot?"

"The Fox Trot? Why yes of course, it's one of my favourites." Owen replied, still wondering why she asked.

She looked at the archway leading out. "You know the music playing happens to be perfect for it."

He looked indifferently at the direction it was coming from. "So it is?"

"Would you care to dance with me then?"

His brows lifted in astonishment. "You want to do it here?"

She stepped out to the rooms large area. "You're not the only one who learned dancing." She held out her dainty hand to him.

He gently took it. "You don't mind? I mean we hardly know each other."

"You lead." She said.

"If you insist," He grabbed her arm with honor as he placed his hand just a bit from her back as to not touch it. With a perfect posture for the routine; he took his role as lead dancer and gently pulled her into motion.

It was a perfect launch; in no time at all they floated across the floor in harmony and rhythm. The surroundings fell into a gentle blur as time stood still for them. They made their way about the room in a series of twirls and spins; this was going on far longer than a mere practice session, this routine was too perfect to end.

It was so mesmerizing for Owen that when the time came for the dip, his lids were shut; and it caused him to lean in too close too Serena.

The moment was frozen in time; Owen held her, she looked at him, they could not explain the peace they felt in that embrace.

As they were just about to understand it, their peace was shattered!

"Serena!" Preston roared. He had been standing just a few feet away from their dance, breaking the sanctity.

Owen was so startled by Preston's yell that he almost dropped Serena!

Still held in the dip, she stared at the intruder. "Preston, wot are you doing?"

He walked towards her like a raging bull. "I should be asking you that question! let go of her!" He commanded Owen.

Embarrassed, he obeyed and let Serena back on her feet. He wanted to apologize but he felt it would be inappropriate now.

Serena scowled at him. "Preston!" She scolded. "Stop this! Owen was just showing me his skills at dancing."

"Clearly." He sneered. "Serena, come back with me now." He ordered.

Owen interrupted his roaring, "It's her choice to make."

He moved towards Owen, ready to deck him as he gave an intimidating glare.

But Serena stopped their little argument by standing in between. "Will you two, please?" She lifted her hair back as she tried to regain control. "Preston, could you please wait over there by the hall, I want to talk to Owen for a minute."

He was ready to argue but she interrupted him again.

"I'll be with you when I'm done." She ordered.

He knew better than to continue and unwillingly agreed. With one last stare at Owen, he walked over to the entrance.

Once out of ear shoot, she spoke quietly to Owen. "I am very sorry about this, I didn't know this would happen."

"I should be the one apologizing, I didn't mean to dip so low during the dance, I wasn't paying attention."

She stared at him oddly, unable to understand what he was talking about. "What? Owen you were superb, I saw nothing wrong with your skill!" But her tone quickly died down. "No, I'm sorry about Preston's behavior, he can be very protective but I didn't expect him to react like that."

"I guess I am partly to blame, he did catch us at a bad time." Owen smirked, although he was still very embarrassed.

"Yes, well, we couldn't help that, now could we?" She replied with a smile equal to his. "Look, I don't want it to end like this; after the show I'll be driving myself home, during that time, would you like to go out for a cup of coffee with me?"

He was surprised by the unexpected invite. "You'd be able to?" Owen marveled.

"Of course. Shall I meet you at the entrance in two hours?"

He nodded eagerly. "Sure, I'll meet you there." His smile seemed almost too endearing, as they looked at one another for a brief moment.

But Preston's inability to wait caught up to them and she knew she had to go. "I have to leave, goodbye Owen."

"Goodbye Serena."

While still standing in the Floral Exhibit, he watched Serena exit to the main hallway. His peace was interrupted when he saw Preston put his arms around her. For a moment he was hurt, then suddenly he snapped out of it. "What am I doing?" He wondered out loud. He lifted his hand in shame. "Oh Owen, what _are_ you doing?" In his guilt, he remembered Sally, and his engagement to her, but the thought brought no comfort. Instead it gave him a heavy heart, for some reason it seemed so overwhelming. "I'm engaged?" He asked himself. He rested his weary body against the wall and suddenly noticed a large painting hanging above his hand. It was of a blonde women holding a a beautiful bouquet of Forget-me-not's. He backed away in awe to get a better look at it. The meaning was so painfully clear that he was almost brought to tears, "No, I haven't forgotten you," he sighed, "I know what I must I do."

The night was wearing on and everyone was having a pleasant time; from the music, to the arts, to the fine conversation shared among the upper class. Alan of course, couldn't care less. Hours had passed and all he did was marvel at the female guide, suddenly a voice called his name.

It was Owen, he had been walking around the hall's searching for him.

"Owen!" He cried back. "Where were you, it's been hours! Do you have any idea what happened?"

Owen finished jogging up to him and panted. "What are you talking about?"

"I meet her!" He exclaimed.

"Who?"

Alan explained again only this time using his hand. "Heeeerrrrr."

Owen finally got the message, much to his amazement. "Wait, you mean, 'her' as in, the one you're looking for? Where?"

He grabbed Owens head and held it in the right direction. "Over there!" He exclaimed, pointing eagerly to the guide.

He watched the female carefully while in the head lock, "She is beautiful; are you positive she's the one?"

With a big, dumb smile, he nodded. "She's not just beautiful, she's everything I've been looking for!"

He pulled himself out of the headlock. "Well, you are a better judge at this than me."

"I'm telling you Owen, I have never met a woman who makes me feel like I do now."

"How many words have you said to her?" He inquired.

'Well, I didn't have much time; see, I kinda got thrown out of the tour for being in the way…"

Owen thought it was odd they would kick him like that, and then remembered Al's intensiveness. "Too eager?" He wondered.

Alan fumbled with the words. "Well I may have...tried to ask her out."

"In the middle of the tour?!"

He shrugged. "I thought I could do it…"

Owen pressed his hand heavily into his own forehead. "Look Al, if you think she's the one, if you're a hundred percent sure - don't overdo it, otherwise you're going to scare her off."

Ala tried to defend himself but couldn't think of much to say. "What do you think I should do?"

He paused to reflect. "Okay, listen, after the tours over with and she heads home…"

"I follow her?"

Owen continued lecturing with folded arms. "Word of advice, don't try the stalker approach - you go to her before she leaves and apologize for your behavior."

He unwillingly nodded along. "Okay then what, tell her how I feel?"

"Don't be too compulsive, remember Al, you have a very intense stare, that might scare her if your too forward."

His expression was dumb-founded. 'Wait, I have an intense stare?"

"Well, it is rather, severe."

"What do you mean?"

He rubbed his temples. "Nothing, anyway when you talk to her just be sensitive and you'll do fine."

He finally agreed. "I think I can manage."

"Just do what you did before when you asked a girl out." Owen teased.

But he didn't laugh back. "I never did before."

"Never?"

"They always asked me out."

Owen sighed heavily. "And I know you're not joking."

"So did you find Serena?"

"What? Oh," Owen wasn't sure how to reply.

"Well what happened?"

He stroked his beard for a moment. "It's a long story."

Alan looked at the guide in the distance. "I've got time." He smirked.

The gavel banged against the hard wood. "The bidding is started at three-thousand." The man announced.

Serena slouched in her pew, quickly losing interest.

Preston leaned over to her. "What's wrong with you?"

"You know I don't like these events; I'm only here because of you."

He observed the painting up for auction, "That thing is hideous." and leaned back to Serena. "You should buy something for yourself, that's why I brought you."

"Yes well, there's nothing here that I actually like, besides, I hate bidding." She muttered.

"Well if you do start biding, you can easily rip all other bidders to shreds."

Serena frowned as she leaned back, the idea didn't seem appealing to her.

The auctioneer continued until someone finally bought the piece. "This next painting is made by the unknown artist, Mister Eduardo Iglesias; though it is not of his usual subjects; he painted a crying man instead of a woman. May the bidding start at ten thousand."

Serena looked at the painting for amusement's sake and was taken. She stared into his painted eyes; the pain, the tears, the determination. She raised her hand to her heart, almost brought to tears herself. It was too remarkable to let it slip into the hands of some collector and gather dust in some basement, it deserved so much more than that.

"Going once, going twice..." He announced.

"Ten, fifty!" Serena yelled out!

Preston moved back in shock from her unexpected, and very loud, shout.

She looked about nervously to see if no one else would bid and sadly, someone did. "Eleven hundred." She called out again.

The auction quickly sped up. "Now hearing eleven hundred, do I hear twelve hundred?"

Some one else raised the price, then some one raised the price again to fifteen hundred!

It was getting more serious, but Serena couldn't waste time contemplating why she wanted this painting so bad, instead, she took the bull by the horns and yelled out once more. "Twenty thousand!"

Preston's jaw dropped, the crowds murmur was silenced.

"Twenty thousand going once, going twice," he smacked his gavel hard on the wood. "Sold for twenty thousand, to the lady in the purple dress!"

She sat back down, her body still shook form the adrenaline of the bid.

"What was that?" Preston whispered.

"What? You told me to buy something."

"Yes, but this is just a painting, not a small mansion!"

She sighed irritably and proceed to get up. "You know something Preston? I just can't please you tonight can I; I'm driving myself home." She raised from her seat and headed towards the door.

"Serena please, don't be like this!" He gasped fervently; he followed her out the door. "You're my date, I'm taking you home!"

She exited the auction room and stood in the hall, staring at him fiercely. "I'm your date? Not only did you force me into that vile exhibit earlier; but you completely ignored my pleas because you were too busy, _bragging_!"

He looked down at her, trying to stop her.

But Serena continued huffing. "Then you acted like a complete child when I was starting to have a nice time here."

His wounded ego refused to cow toe to Serena as he puffed heavily.

But she gave one more hard blow. "And one more thing; you lied to me when you said you worked as a Director at Improv-Co, didn't you?"

That accusation was completely unexpected; he had to give up his quest. "Alright yes, I'm only a senior manager; I didn't tell you because I was afraid you'd be disappointed in me. It's such a step-down from my first job that I didn't want you to worry."

There was disappointment and anger in her glare. "Disappointed? You'd think I'd be concerned over something so frivolous? Preston it's just a job, do you really think you need to lie to me about it?" She shook her head in shame. "I can't believe you thought that of me."

A man in uniform approached her. "Madam? Your painting?"

She refrained from her argument and changed her tone to something more suitable. "Oh yes, I'll be with you in a moment,"

Preston tried to stop here. "Wait."

She rested her hand sternly on his out stretched arm arm and pushed it away. "I'll see you next week, Preston."

He watched her so intensively as she departed from him. It left a bitter taste in his mouth as he watched her legs stride away.

"Wow Owen," Alan muttered. "You really want to post-pone your engagement with Sally?"

"At least until I figure out what my purpose is with Serena, I fell right now I should be focusing on one thing."

"By post-poning?" Alan wondered.

"Yes, it would only be fair to her; how can I be a good husband If I'm too busy trying to figure out who Serena is?"

Alan agreed with a nod. "I see; okay, that's understandable." He stopped and whispered suddenly to Owen. "Hey get your charm back on she's coming this way!"

Owen didn't know what he meant by charm. "What?"

"Serena!"

He turned around to try and see for himself, there she was behind him.

She had noticed him from a distance and walked over. "Hello Owen, I'm sorry to interrupt."

"Oh Serena! No you're not interrupting anything. Allow me to introduce you to my best friend, Alan Steedman."

She shook his hand in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you sir."

"The pleasure is mine; Owen was just telling me about you."

Serena gave Owen a curious smile. "Really?"

Alan cleared his throat and stuttered, "Yes, uh he mentioned how you two were going out later so he'll be taking a cab home instead."

"I see." She nodded.

Suddenly something caught Alan's attention. The guide he was eyeing for the past hour was ending her tour and walking away. He alerted himself to Owen. "Uh, I have to get going."

He quickly realized what he was referring to. "Yes of course, I'll see you tomorrow then."

He nodded a goodbye to both of them, "You two have fun,"

Owen wasn't sure how to reply to that one, instead he just waved goodbye as Alan ran off.

"Your friends very nice."

"I'm glad you like him." Owen muttered.

She gave him his arm. "Shall we be off then?"

Owen smiled at her and happily took it; together they proceeded to leave.

"So about that coffee; I know of this really nice cafe over on Burly street..."

The tour had neared the end and the guide was now done for the night. She took off her vest and placed it back in her personal employee locker.

Her co-worker stood next to her. "So how was your tour?" She asked.

"Not great, some nut started hitting on me during the tour."

She groaned. "Oh no!"

"Yeah," She exclaimed in irritation. "But he kept following the tour from a distance, even tried waving to me!"

"Oh my gosh; the nerve of some guys, they think they can do whatever they like don't they? I mean it's our _job_ to smile!"

She retorted. "They think were flirting every time we make eye contact. Yeah it's alright though, and he was so poetic too."

Her friend looked at her strangely. "Poetic?"

"Huh, yeah we were looking at that Eduardo painting, and out of nowhere he just started talking about the guy, saying stuff like; he's lonely in that big house of his, he sits there patiently each day, waiting for her to return." Her tone went sweet from the memory.

She gave her a weird look, "You know, for a creep, you make him sound nice!"

"What. No, I just thought it was weird that's all. Besides, he wasn't _that_ cute." She muttered. "Sort of."

"Whoah I didn't say anything about being cute! Why, was he good looking?"

She seemed too annoyed to answer. "Maybe…"

Her friend leaned against her locker. "Scale on One to Ten."

She looked away for a moment. "…Ten…" She whispered indecisively.

"The arrogant ones always are."

"Look, I gotta go now Jade, see you next week, kay?"

"Yeah sure leave me with the kids' tour!"

She grabbed her pack, "It's a young students' program, you'll do fine." She answered.

"Call it what you want but I'll still hate it; see ya Mad's."

"Bye Jade." She waved goodbye to her friend and jogged out of the room.

The exit was a short distance away and she ran to it, desperately wanting to head outside and call it a day.

"Hey!" The man called out from behind.

She turned around, nervous to see who it was, and was unpleasantly surprised. "You!? What are you doing here? I thought security hauled you off?"

He slowed down as he caught up to her. "Wait, I want to say I'm sorry."

She held her guard high and stared at him, "You're sorry?"

"Yes, for embarrassing you earlier, I was only trying to get to know you."

"It's a tour sir; I'm supposed to talk about the artists', not myself."

"But you're a lot more interesting than they are because I can see you."

"Just because you can't see the artist, doesn't mean they're not fascinating."

Alan calmly, if not cocky, replied back to her. "There only fascinating because of what we speculate them to be like. That's why I'd like to get to know somebody in person because I can see them for who they are."

She stopped for a moment to process what he just said actually making sense. "So in other words, you'd like to know me?"

"Yes; are you free tomorrow night?"

She sternly placed her hand on her hip. "Why do you want to ask me out so bad?"

He looked down; this sensitivity thing wasn't working. "Look, I don't know how else to put it, um." Alan thought to himself,_remember Owen's words, do not scare away, don't over-do it._ "I," Alan cleared his throat. "-like you. I think your very smart, and lovely, and I want to take you out tomorrow; if that's okay?"

She rubbed the back of her head, not turned off but just weighing the idea with her better judgment, but then her lips curled and she turned back to look at him, "Is seven fine?"

"Are you saying yes?"

"I'm saying meet me at the Moshi Moshi restaurant on Waterton way, tomorrow."

"It's a date then?" Alan smiled.

"It's a date."

The two found themselves standing just inches away from the other under the large archway, their eyes locked in an unmovable gaze.

She rocked a bit with her hands behind her back and she pointed to the road behind her, "I um, have a bus to catch,"

Alan backed away. "Right, go ahead."

"See you tomorrow." She waved.

"I will!" He yelled back, happily. He watched her walk all the way out the hallway and down the steps, so enchanted by her charm that he failed to realize one thing.

"I didn't even catch her name! Hey wait a minute!"

His legs bolted through the crowd and out the large arches to her bus stop. The short run through the cold night air caused him to be short of breath, but he kept on sprinting.

She turned around in response to his cries. "What is it?"

"What's your name?" He panted.

She froze. "Oh…? OH! Uh right, uh, It's Madelyn." She extended her arm out to his.

He shook it in return. "Nice to meet you Madelyn, I'm Alan."

"That's good to know." She smiled. The bus engines roared at the stop, alerting Madelyn to get on. "I'll see you tomorrow night then?"

Alan spoke loud due to the roaring engines. "You have my word."

Madelyn took another long stare as she watched him from the buses open doors, "Don't keep me waiting." She smirked.

The doors closed blocking their view and Madelyn sat down in her seat; eyeing him still, from the window.

Alan just stood there in the cold night air, as he watched the bus hover down the road. The night was cold, the wind brisk but he wasn't shivering at all. Maybe it was the sudden passion he felt that kept him warm? Or maybe it was the buses lingering exhaust fumes? Whatever it was, he didn't care.

_Madelyn._


End file.
